


413am

by lalablue0



Series: 413am [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Gen, Major Character Undeath, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Appearance, Minor Violence, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, but not really, original vigilante mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalablue0/pseuds/lalablue0
Summary: Jason Todd was born on August 16th at 4:13am. He died on August 16 at 4:12am. He was reborn August 16th at 4:13am.Damian doesn't like this. Dick can't stop taking pictures. Tim can't believe how small Jason is. Alfred is secretly thrilled to have an infant in the manor. Bruce is his usual stoic self.
Series: 413am [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2017310
Comments: 66
Kudos: 363





	1. Baby on Board

**Author's Note:**

> This is fiction. The only canon you can be sure to find within is "A Death in the Family" and "Under The Red Hood". This is my very first Batman related fan fic. SO ... Please feel free to comment. 
> 
> Ages of the characters at the start of the story. Alfred – 69. Bruce -40. Babs – 27. Dick -25. Cass -21. Steph -17. Tim – 16. Damian -12
> 
> Also of note:  
> Ahk – brother  
> Ahki – my brother

The Red Hood wasn't wearing his infamous helmet. The August night was too hot. Too humid. Too stifling. The helmet was left behind in his safe house. The Red Hood only wore his red domino mask. Even his leather jacket was left at home. Red Robin managed to create a bullet resistant (not quite bullet proof for heavier gauge ammunition – but sufficient against the more common smaller caliber weapons the criminal element liked to carry) lightweight breathable material. All their summertime suits were made from it. Despite this, beads of sweat still glistened on Red Hood's forehead.

  
  


It was the eve of his birthday. A milestone year. The Red Hood was turning twenty. No longer a teenager. The Batman only wanted to celebrate with him. Which is why he tracked him down to that roof top. A plan to spend the day spoiling him rotten with home cooked meals, the peace and variety of the library, and an opportunity to share some cake with their odd little family.

  
  


The Batman sighed heavily. The Red Hood had his back to him again as he attempted to walk away.

  
  


“Hood, please,” he asked again.

  
  


Hood stopped in his tracks and rotated his head just enough to squint at him through the domino mask. “What part of no do you always have a problem with?” Without the helmet his voice was not modulated. The venom he intended to spit at him was lost when his voice trailed off and Red Hood winced.

  
  


The Batman stepped forward and inquired, “Are you injured?”

  
  


Red Hood took several steps back before he broke into a coughing fit.

  
  


The Batman stepped forward again and the Hood stepped back again. Forever a dance with them. One step forward, two steps back. Spin your partner and do-Si-do.

  
  


“Are you sick?” The Batman questioned.

  
  


The only answer was more coughing. It sounded deep and wet. His immediate thought was pneumonia. Jason's first winter with Bruce found him with his yearly case of pneumonia treated with real medicine and Alfred famous chicken soup. Jason was surprised to find he didn't have to spend the whole winter coughing his lungs out thanks to proper treatment.

  
  


Batman quickly closed the distance between them, before Hood could run off in the opposite direction. He pulled off a glove and tried to run his palm across Hood's face. “Get off me!” Hood yelled, as he pushed off of him with all the strength of a newborn kitten.

  
  


“Tt. Just leave him Father. He does not care about anything, including his own health.” Robin stated as he landed on the roof behind the Batman.

  
  


“Robin,” he stated sternly as he continued to manhandle Hood.

  
  


His hand finally landed on Hood's forehead and he leaned into the touch. “You're burning up. How long have you been sick?”

  
  


Hood seemed to lean further into his touch, chasing the coolness of his touch against his fevered skin. “Oh that's nice,” Hood mumbled against him.

  
  


“You mean he's actually sick?” Robin asked with a little less spite in his voice.

  
  


“Call A. Tell him we're coming in with a fever.”

  
  


–

  
  


Jason shivered under some ten kilograms of ice. He lost all his fight and went willingly to the medical bay in the Batcave. It showed Bruce just how poorly Jason felt. He always put up a fight no matter how sick he felt or injured he was. He had gone one patrol too many while hiding illnesses Bruce would have surely benched him for.

  
  


Bruce recalled that first winter when Jason had fallen ill. It was a sweet spot in the small pocket of Jason's youth. He had hidden how he felt prior to patrol and Bruce had failed to notice the sweat pouring off his son. However once he realized that Jason was ill, he cut patrol short and brought him home. Jason become a cuddle monster and refused to leave Bruce's side till his fever broke a day later.

  
  


That was when Jason first called Bruce 'Dad'. Before the arguments and the disobedience. Before...

  
  


Since Jason has been back, the only time he's called him 'Dad', the word dripped of utter disdain.

  
  


Alfred came to stand behind Bruce. “His fever is rather high. His lungs sound atrocious. It may be necessary to intubate if his oxygen levels continue to drop.”

  
  


Bruce tensed. He looked at Alfred and asked, “Is it that bad?”

  
  


Alfred moved closer to Jason. He wiped a few sweat soaked hairs from his forehead with a remarkable gentleness. “I hope it is not needed but his stats are worrisome.”

  
  


Bruce gave Jason's hand a squeeze and noted how clammy his skin felt. “It's his birthday today. I hope we don't have to subject him to that,” Bruce sighed, “I also don't want him to experience oxygen deprivation on top of a fever cooking his brain.”

  
  


“I'll prepare a vent just in case it is required,” Alfred stated as he took one more look at the sick young man in the bed.

  
  


Bruce sighed again and scrubbed his hand across his face. “You can come sit with us if you want.”

  
  


Damian peeked around the corner into the medical bay. He hesitated at the door but at least he was in the room. “Father, did you know that there is a seven percent chance of dying on your birthday?”

  
  


Bruce blinked hard several times as he attempted to process what Damian said.

  
  


“I'm not saying that will happen to Todd today, just because it's his birthday. I was merely stating a fact.”

  
  


“Jason has pneumonia. He's young and strong, but it's serious. I swear he gets it every year,” Bruce hoped Damian understood the nature of the situation.

  
  


“I checked his birth certificate once. He was born at **4:13am**. I wanted to be here to experience the twentieth anniversary of his birth.”

  
  


Damian stepped closer but kept his eye on the clock. Two minutes to go. Bruce's eyes, however, were on the monitors. His oxygen levels dipped again. All of his hopes of being able to keep Jason off a ventilator on his birthday were just dashed. The machine screamed out a warning tone.

  
  


Everything happened so fast, but it felt like slow motion. Jason began convulsing and all the numbers disappeared from the monitor; replaced with question marks. The cursed alarm was ear piercingly loud as it echoed off the cave walls, causing the bats nearby to go into a tizzy. Alfred rushed in and moved the crash cart next to the bed. Bruce moved to the head of the bed and lowered it flat. Damian pushed himself into the corner to give the adults room to work.

  
  


Jason's body contorted and twisted into inhuman shapes. His eyes were rolled back in his head and he was clenching his jaw so hard, Bruce feared he would crack his teeth. He tried to hold Jason's shoulders down, but his thrashing was too strong.

  
  


Just as quickly as it began, it ended. Jason went boneless limp and the monitor no longer beeped an incessant warning. Instead a steady tone signifying no cardiac activity.

  
  


“No,” Bruce breathed out heavily. He pushed the ice off Jason's chest and immediately began chest compressions.

  
  


The tone droned steadily in Bruce's ears. The sound of him counting out compressions barely audible over the sound. Bruce felt a movement under his palms but the tone continued steady. Jason's body was convulsing again. Like a rag doll being torn to shreds by a viscous dog.

  
  


Then Jason went still again. The tone continued steady.

  
  


**4:13am**

  
  


  
  


The blinding white flash that seemed to imminent from Jason's still body died down. Bruce, Alfred and Damian uncovered their eyes and looked upon the sight before them.

  
  


“Jason?” Bruce had dared to breath out after a moment of stunned silence.

  
  


The small eyelids fluttered open and the piercing green of the Lazarus Pit shone brightly, but quickly faded to Jason's original baby blues.

  
  


Bruce had dealt with Jason being de-aged before. Just this past spring Jason, Cass and Tim had been exposed to Poison Ivy's latest potion that resulted in three eight years coming back to the cave to wait out the effects for seventy-two chaotic hours.

  
  


But this.

  
  


“Father, that – What happ – What is that?” Damian finally managed.

  
  


Alfred stepped forward just as Jason's face scrunched up and he began to let out the most pitiful of wails. Alfred scooped the child swiftly into his arms and cradled him gently to his chest as he moved closer to Bruce. Alfred carefully transferred the screaming bundle into his unprepared arms. Alfred placed Bruce's hands where to properly hold the infant. Almost immediately the babe began to quiet.

  
  


Alfred guided Bruce back to the chair next to the bed. He placed a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder as he announced, “I shall endeavor to get all the necessary supplies and return shortly. I shall have Barbara make some inquires.”

  
  


Jason was tiny, naked and painfully cute. Bruce had been always wondered what his children looked like as babies. He now had the answer to at least one of them. Bruce inhaled deeply and found himself smiling at the powerful scent on his son's head.

  
  


“Father. Please do not get attached to that thing. I'm sure Zatanna will be able to return Todd to his proper size and age.”

  
  


Bruce looked up at Damian standing before him. His face held a mix of shock, confusion and anger in his features.

  
  


“Forgive me Damian. I was only relishing the moment. I was denied seeing you at this age.”

  
  


“How old do you think it is?”

  
  


“HE,” Bruce emphasized, “looks to be a newborn. I'd dare say that he is no more then an day or so old.”

  
  


“IT,” Damian emphasized, “is an abomination. Todd is an adult. Not a – a -. Not this.”

  
  


Bruce shifted the baby in his arms so that Jason was cradled into the crook of elbow. The new position gave Damian an unobstructed view of him. Bruce isn't sure if Damian is wide eyed because of the child's nudity or that he still has his umbilical stump. Perhaps it was the lack of scars. The Y incision from his autopsy was the most prominent scar Jason had on his torso. His tiny little chest was soft and clear. The aborted J scar on face was also gone.

  
  


The ultimate tabula rasa; clean slate. Jason's skin bore no scars. His eyes showed no fear. His hands had not shed blood. He body never ravaged by malnutrition or beatings from Willis. Whatever brought Jason back from death, brought him back to the beginning.

  
  


“Once we get Jason back to normal, you will forget this foolishness.”

  
  


Bruce tilted his head and carefully studied his son. “Damian. Prior to the white light, what do you remember?”

  
  


It was Damian's turn to tilt his head. “I understand that Todd was in distress, but-”

  
  


Bruce scoffed loud enough that the bundle in his arms whined and fussed. “Distress? Damian, he was in asystole. He -,” Bruce didn't dare finish the thought he needed Damian to understand.

  
  


“We would have gotten him back. We didn't have time to use the crash cart,” he reasoned.

  
  


“It wouldn't have worked, Damian. You know this,” Bruce sighed and looked back down at the sleeping bundle in the crook of his elbow. Jason had died. Again. He came back. Again. This time was obviously different. Bruce felt that Jason was his biggest failure as Batman and as a father. He had voiced many times that he wished he could start over with Jason. To give Jason everything he should have the first time around. To be less emotionally constipated as the kids liked to joke unironically.

  
  


Damian looked at him in stunned silence. He pursed his lips and knit his brow, “Will you at least try?”

  
  


Bruce looked down at the sleeping naked infant in his arm and then to the tween in front of him. Jason was Damian's big brother. The situation was probably the most outrageous that their family has faced, but the steady tone of the cardiac monitor still echoed in his ears. Could he risk trying to revert Jason, if the last moment he had as an adult was his second death? Could he risk trying to revert Jason, if it meant that he could possibly lose him again? Could he go through that kind of pain again? He felt his breath leave his body when that steady tone rang out. He didn't feel fresh air in his lungs till the blinding light faded and his son took a deep breath.

  
  


“You won't even try,” Damian whispered.

  
  


  
  


  
  


\--

  
  


  
  


  
  


Dick, Cass and, Tim showed up pretty soon after Alfred left. They brought Zatanna and Raven with them.

  
  


“Babs said Jason got de-aged again, but she didn't say -,” Dick paused as he rounded the corner to the med bay. He immediately brightened and held out his hands in the universal grabby motion and started, “Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

  
  


Bruce carefully transferred Jason to Dick's expectant arms and smiled.

  
  


“Little brother littler,” Cass stated plainly as she stared at the babe in Dick's arms. “A lot little.”

  
  


“Oh my god, B, this is insane. He's so tiny. How did this happen?” Dick questioned. He traced the line of Jason's puffy cheeks and cooed at him.

  
  


Bruce scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I honestly am not sure. He was sick with a high fever and -”

  
  


Dick immediately placed his palm across Jason's forehead and the look on his face was of relief that the child wasn't still fevered.

  
  


“There was blinding white light and when we could see again,” Bruce gestured to the baby. He specifically skipped the part where Jason died. Again. It's been less then an hour since it happened and he wasn't quite sure what was real.

  
  


“How long do you think the spell will last?” Tim asked.

  
  


“I'm not sure it was a spell,” Bruce offered.

  
  


“Tt. Zatanna and Raven will be able to detect the magic and soon we will have our Jason back and not that – thing,” Damian said with no filter to his disdain. Whether it was for the situation as a whole or for the baby himself remained to be seen.

  
  


Dick carefully transferred Jason to Cass. She leaned in close and inhaled deeply. She smiled apparently satisfied. Dick took out his phone and took about a hundred photos in the span of ninety seconds.

  
  


“I want all the blackmail I can get before he ages back up. I'm never gonna let him live this down.” Dick said gleefully.

  
  


Bruce swallowed hard. He did not share Dick's optimism. He tried not to let it show though. But he felt Damian bristle beside him.

  
  


Cass soon held Jason out at arms length as Jason relieved himself with abandon. She tried to hand him off to the nearest person, which happened to be Damian. Damian's eyes widened and he looked like he was not going to actually hold the bundle being handed to him. Bruce quickly stepped in and took the infant from them and moved to put him down on the gurney to clean him up.

  
  


The timing on Alfred's part was to be expected at this point in his life. Dr. Thomkins walked by his side into the medical bay. Her pace stuttered when she caught sight of the baby. Alfred came in with several large parcels and placed them down near the bed. He instructed Bruce to come closer and showed him the proper way to clean and diaper Jason. Everyone watched in awe as Alfred easily made the process seem simple.

  
  


“Though I am loathe to use these disposable diapers; I fear I am much to old to be laundering nappies,” Alfred said as he gently folded the diaper away from his umbilical stump. He placed Jason carefully into a Batman styled onesie which earned him a cocked eyebrow from Bruce. Dick quickly snapped more photos.

  
  


Jason was replaced into Bruce's arm and a warm bottle was placed in his other hand. Which again was excellent timing. Jason's little face scrunched up and he began to whimper. The nipple swiftly squelched the imminent cry Jason was winding up to.

  
  


Bruce sat back down and let Alfred adjust his hold on Jason till he was satisfied with the position to best feed the child. The bottle was so small in his hand. At the same time he wondered if the whole thing would be too much for Jason's tiny belly. The med bay was quiet except for everyone taking pictures and cooing at the tike.

  
  


  
  


After burping Jason, Zatanna and Raven shooed all but Bruce away so that they could examine the baby.  
  
Bruce watched as the pair of magical purveyors performed some sort of ritual that would search his soul or something to that effect. The magic stuff was beyond his ability to grasp. After a few silent moments, they emerged from their trances and Bruce did not fail to notice the look the two shared before turning to face him.  
  
Zatanna folded her hands in front of her and put on her best smile. "The good news is that this is Jason." Her smile did not reach her eyes as she looked over to Raven.  
  
Raven's eyebrows hiked up her forehead as she realized that Zatanna wanted her to speak now. Bruce shifted his gaze to her.  
  
"Yes. This is Jason. All the things that make him Jason are still there. He is too little to access it or even understand it in any way."  
  
Bruce couldn't fathom the idea that that tiny little brain could possess the same knowledge, same nightmare memories that the adult Jason did.  
  
Zatanna looked uncomfortable as she sighed deeply. "We felt it. We felt him die."  
  
Raven quickly continued, "I don't even know if this is some kind of magic. He died. We felt it. But he was...reborn."  
  
"Reborn?" Bruce repeated. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Our Jason died. But for whatever reason the universe sent Jason back to start from scratch."  
  
Bruce considered them for a moment. Considered the words Zatanna said. Start from scratch?  
  
"You're suggesting that this is permanent and he will just grow up like any other child?"  
  
Both women looked at each other and then back to Bruce. "Yes."  
  
Bruce stood up from the chair and gathered Jason into his arms. Immediately all Jason's limbs curled in on themselves as he would have been in the womb. Whose womb? "He was born. Please tell me that somewhere in the multiverse there is not a woman who just gave birth to him and now can't find him?"  
  
Both women looked askance and he closed his eyes tight and held Jason a little closer to his chest.  
  
"We honestly don't know. We've never seen anything like this before. The soul is that of our Jason. The body - it doesn't make sense to have come from an alternative universe."  
  
"We could discuss theories till he turns twenty again, but I don't think we may ever truly know." Raven said.  
  
"This is Jason,” Zatanna gestured, “he is just - in his original packaging,” she shrugged, “Oh, hey, maybe try contacting John Constantine? He may be able to piece together this mystery better than us."  
  
"Thank you ladies. I appreciate your time and input."

  
  


Bruce had a thought that he would need to recall later to dwell on. If Bruce were to allow Jason to grow up from this small child the next time Jason reached age twenty, Bruce would be in his sixties. If he made it that long. The life of nighttime protector of Gotham City was always expected to be short. Bruce had already put seventeen years into the Batman. This iteration of Jason would grow up to never know hunger or a fist raised in anger. Maybe he could know a childhood without Batman. Without Robin. Maybe he could know an actual childhood.

  
  


  
  


Next Dr. Thomkins came in to make her assessment of Jason. She declared that Jason was in perfect health. She weighed Jason. He was only 3.1kg. His son was officially the smallest child he had ever held. She also suggested that Jason was no more that two hours old.

  
  


**4:13am**

  
  


She set Bruce up with a vaccination schedule and bi monthly well baby visit appointments. If Bruce wanted to allow Jason to age naturally, then he needed to treat Jason just like any newborn. There would be time to baby proof, but for now it was all about nutrition and bonding. Dr Leslie sat with Bruce for almost an hour discussing what to do for almost every eventuality that they could think of. Bruce's head was full of all sorts of scenarios that could occur to Jason. Most were not positive. He would need to upgrade the manor's security. Perhaps he should hire a nanny. He would need to get a car seat.

  
  


“- listening to me, Bruce? Earth to Bruce?” Leslie was waving her hand in front of his face.

  
  


Bruce straightened and turned his attention back to her.

  
  


“I've scared you. Too much information in too short a time. I'm sorry,” Her face was lined with worry.

  
  


“He's so small. I don't know how I am going to keep him safe.”

  
  


Leslie smiled easily at him. “Bruce, you're Batman,” like the statement was the end all be all.

  
  


  
  


  
  


–

  
  


  
  


  
  


“Is that a baby sling? With a baby in it?” Diana asked.

  
  


The Batman walked into the Justice League conference room and everyone turned to look at him. He was hesitant to leave Jason alone with Alfred, though he knew that the child couldn't have been in more capable hands. If he was going to be a father to Jason, he needed to do it right.

  
  


“It is,” Batman replied.

  
  


Diana was by his side in an instant and pulled the sleeping infant from the carrier. She held him close to her chest and he swore he saw a slight smile on Jason's face.

  
  


“Where did you get him? What's his name? Oh my goodness, he's so tiny. Is he brand new?” Barry asked as he rubbed Jason's head.

  
  


“It's Jason,” Batman stated.

  
  


Diana's eyes widened and she seemed to inhale Jason's scent. She smiled. “Oh my goodness. It is Jason. Why is he so tiny?”

  
  


Batman took the baby back from Diana and repositioned him in the sling. “He seems to have been reborn. I need to try and track down John Constantine. I can't do that with the equipment I have in Gotham.”

  
  


Barry vanished for a full second and reappeared with a whoosh. “The computer is running the search. Can I hold the baby?”

  
  


Batman looked at the eager speedster. “No,” he answered and walked towards the computer console.

  
  


“My wife is pregnant with our first. Thought I could get some practise,” Barry reasoned.

  
  


Batman spared him another look. He found himself caressing Jason's bald head, soothing himself more than the kid. Batman heaved a heavy sigh and pulled Jason back out of the sling. He also read that socializing should begin early. Or was he confusing a dog fact. He couldn't really remember anymore. He was so tired. He handed the infant to Barry and he immediately began to make faces at Jason.

  
  


“He's asleep,” Batman commented.

  
  


“I can't help help it. I have a baby in my arms and my face just started doing this. I think it's a subconscience type of thing,” Barry said through more funny faces.

  
  


Batman shook his head and reviewed the information on the computer. He frowned at the details. He was really hoping that Constantine was at least on US soil. No such luck.

  
  


Why the hell was he in Ethiopia?

  
  


  
  


–

  
  


  
  


“Bloody took you long enough,” John Constantine said as soon as the Batman came down the ramp of the Batplane.

  
  


He looked past him to the condemned building behind Constantine. He hadn't been back since that fateful day. At one point he had considered buying the building and complete the demolition. Even erecting a shrine to his fallen son had been bandied about. But in the end, Batman made the display case with Robin's uniform.

  
  


“You were expecting me?”

  
  


John pointed to the bundle in his arm while holding a cigarette between his index and middle fingers. “Actually I was waiting for him.”

  
  


“You know about him?”

  
  


“How could I not? Bloody heaven and hell been screaming the portents of this death for almost a week now.”

  
  


Batman narrowed his eyes. He held his son a little closer. “What does that mean?”

  
  


“Heaven and hell were ready to go to war for his soul. You've come to collect it. Let's get it over with,” John clapped his hands together and started speaking what Batman recognized as Latin.

  
  


“Wait. Wait. Collect what? What does heaven and hell have to with anything? I think we need to start at the beginning,” Batman interrupted.

  
  


John's eyes settled back on them. He creased his brow and gave out an aggregated sigh. “You really don't know, do you?”

  
  


“Know what?”

  
  


“When he died the first time, he left a little piece of his soul behind. Here,” John gestured to the hollowed out structure nearby. “When he came back the first time, he wasn't right. You probably blamed it on the Lazarus Pit,” he shook his head, “It was that little bit of missing soul that made the Pit madness as bad as it was. He's too wee for the missing piece to make a difference now. But I'm sure you'd like it back. Maybe he won't grow up so angry.”

  
  


Batman looked down to his sleeping son and sighed heavily. “So he'll grow up.”

  
  


“Call me the Blue Fairy, Geppetto. I'm going to turn Pinocchio into a real boy. Is that okay with you? Little bird?”

  
  


Batman whipped around and saw Damian heading down the ramp. He knew the baby had been throwing him off his game lately, but to miss his tween son during the pre flight check and during an eleven hour flight, was just pure negligence on his part.

  
  


Damian stepped closer and scowled at Constantine. “You bring him back. Jason is my big brother, not that thing,” he pointed to the baby.

  
  


“No can do, little bird. Your big brother died. Took a dip in Gotham Harbor and developed pneumonia. But it was the pulmonary embolism that killed him.”

  
  


Damian's scowled deepened. He roared at Constantine and began swinging and screaming at him. "You bring him back. Bring him back right now. Bring him back!"

Batman tried his best to pull Damian off of John, but found it difficult keeping Jason out of range of his rage. “Damian! Stop!” Batman demanded.

  
  


All the fight left Damian and he sank to his knees. Batman can count the number of times on one hand that he had witnessed Damian cry. “He's my brother. Please. Ahki. Ahki. Please.”

  
  


John placed a gentle hand on Damian's shoulder and bent down to look him in the eyes, “He's still your ahk, little bird. You got to witness the universe make a course correction. Jason got the short end of the stick most of his life. Now. He can grow up with the best big brother in the world who will go to the ends of the earth to protect him.”

  
  


Damian sniffled loudly. “I miss him so much.”

  
  


Batman came to join him on the hot ground. He turned Damian to face him and pulled him into a one armed hug. “I miss him too. It's okay, son. We will honour him every day.”

  
  


Damian pulled back and looked at him with wide eyes. “Just don't build another display case. Jason hated that thing.”

  
  


Batman scoffed and pulled Damian tighter to him. He kissed his temple and released him. “No display cases. Got it.”

  
  


Damian hung his head again. “I didn't think you would even try,” Damian reached out gently to Jason, “He won't be the same when he grows up.”

  
  


“You didn't think I'd try to see if Jason could be aged back up? Of course I would try. I didn't think it would be possible,” Batman stated. “But of course I would try. I knew that if he couldn't be aged back, he would have to grow up again. All his experience, memories, all the progress we've made in the past year, it would all be gone. But you know what else I realized?”

  
  


Damian shook his head.

  
  


“We have a chance to start from scratch. We can make sure that he is raised in a family that loves him and keeps him safe. Maybe start teaching him early about the culture you always claimed he lacked.”

  
  


That got a small chuckle from Damian.

  
  


“Okay?” Batman asked.

  
  


Damian nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  
  


John smiled and stood back up from his crouch. He clapped his hands together again and said, “Great, now that is settled. Let's pop his soul back in his body.”

  
  


Constantine's Latin started again.


	2. Year One Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce tells the family about Jason.  
> Alfred hires a nanny.  
> Tim goes into protection mode.  
> Dick can't stop taking pictures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder - This is fiction. Not a whole lot of canon going on here.  
> I split what was going to be my chapter 2 in to two parts because of reasons that matter to no one but me.  
> I am so floored by the feedback I got on the first chapter. I can only hope that the rest of the story is as well received. 
> 
> There are different POV's which I note at the beginning of each POV change. (A necessary evil in order to further the story). Unless otherwise noted the POV is Bruce/Batman.
> 
> The name I gave the nanny was randomly chosen through a random name generator.

  
  


Bruce had supposed he didn't need to invite all the kids to the manor to explain Jason would not be aged back up. He supposed that he could have sent a text that explained that Jason would now be their baby brother. He supposed he should have even called each of them one by one so they could yell and ask the questions they needed to wrap their heads around this new change in their family dynamic.

  
  


He supposed he should have done a lot of things differently.

  
  


Five pairs of eyes stared at him. Only Damian had fore knowledge so he didn't look so ravenous.

  
  


“ What does that mean?”

  
  


“ You have got to be kidding me!”

  
  


“ Well shit.”

  
  


“ What?!”

  
  


“ ...”

  
  


Bruce signed, “Jason is not going to be coming back. He is going to stay a baby and just grow up like a regular kid.”

  
  


“ Well not a regular child, Father. He'll be a Wayne. He'll be extraordinary.”

  
  


Four pairs of eyes shifted to stare at Damian.

  
  


“ You're okay with this?” Tim asked incredulously.

  
  


Damian shrugged. “I've known for a few days. I've come to accept my new role as big brother.”

  
  


Dick shook his head. “Who are you and what have you done with Dami?”

  
  


“So wait, you're going to _raise_ Jason?” Steph asked

  
  


Bruce tilted his head, “Of course.”

  
  


Both she and Tim each scoffed.

  
  


“ I'm sorry Bruce, but really? You and a baby?” Steph smiled as she seemed to be processing the many things that entails.

  
  


Bruce would never admit that he had his doubts too. The idea of raising a child from birth was very scary. He never had to do it before. All his kids came to him older. He never had to change a diaper or wake up for midnight feedings. He never had to bathe a newborn or try to gauge if the bottle was the right temperature. But this was Jason. His son. His responsibility.

  
  


“ I mean, this certainly isn't what I had planned for my life, or his, but yeah. Me and the baby. You don't think I would give him up? Do you?”

  
  


“ This life is hard enough. We get kidnapped on the monthly. Paparazzi invade our privacy constantly. You make us get dressed up and go to gala's. You want to subject Jason to all that?” Tim interjected.

  
  


“ You think he's cute now. Wait till the projectile vomiting, explosive diarrhea, potty training...- puberty. Again,” Steph added.

  
  


Dick scoffed. He, Bruce and Alfred were the only ones to know Jason during his early teens. Puberty was … challenging.

  
  


“ Well that is a long way off. He's barely ten days old.”

  
  


“ I can see it now. Batman carrying a baby sling,” Tim joked.

  
  


Bruce sighed.

  
  


“ Oh. Wait. It happened and I missed it. Come on. Really?”

  
  


Bruce shrugged.

  
  


“ Will he still be Jason?” Cass asked quietly.

  
  


Bruce moved to sit down in front of her. He took her small hand in his. “All the things that make him Jason are still there, but when he grows up again, he will be different, because his experiences will be different. We don't know what he might remember or if he will.”

  
  


Cass nodded and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I will miss big little brother.”

  
  


Bruce looked up the faces of his other children. They all seemed to agree with the sentiment. They would all miss Jason. While the babe asleep in the bassinet upstairs was Jason, he was a baby. He would never truly be their Jason again. It would be a while until he developed a personality. It would be years, he thought, before Jason would even begin to look like the little boy who tried to steal his tyres all those years ago in Crime Alley.

  
  


“ We all will. But I hope that you will grow to love the baby version of your little brother as much as I already do.”

  
  


“ So how do we do this? I mean, what about Red Hood? His criminal network is on the verge of collapse. And what about baby Jason? It's not like we can say the stork brought him. I doubt anyone will make the connection about the disappearance of one with the appearance of the other, but...,” Tim questioned.

  
  


“ Well, I have a plan ,” Bruce started, “For all intents and purposes, Red Hood is dead. His criminal enterprise was bequeathed to Matches Malone,” Bruce referenced his own criminal underground persona, “as for the baby, you may need to enlist Babs' help.”

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Bruce brought Jason to Dr Leslie for his two week check up. She instilled upon him the need to keep up with all his well baby visits. If there were any changes to the way he was aging or anything hinky were to arise, she would be the first to help make any diagnosis.

  
  


It was Bruce's first time in public with the baby. He prepared his public relations team for the inevitable onslaught of inquiries to who the infant was that Bruce carried into the Gotham clinic.

  
  


Dr Leslie signed the birth certificate stating Bruce was the father of one Jason Todd Wayne. The mother that was listed was a woman that didn't exist. Tim and Babs created a fictional mother for Jason, who served only as a surrogate for Bruce. Leaving the child solely in Bruce's custody.

  
  


The Gotham media loved Jason. Loved that Brucie Wayne was a dad again. This time to an infant. Named after his son that died five years prior. Doting older brother Richie Wayne filled his Instagram feed with adorably cute pictures of his new baby brother. Even Damian Wayne was seen fulfilling his role of big brother well. Ruining photos of the paparazzi that dared venture too close. Carrying the diaper bag for his father or the butler. Or reading and singing to him in his native tongue, which only Bruce and Alfred knew.

  
  


Bruce had only been out as the Batman a few times since Jason's rebirth. Between trying to find answers and preparing the house for Jason's new circumstances, he had just been so tired. Was this normal? Was this what all new parents went through? Each time he brought a child into his home, they were mostly self sufficient. They could feed and dress themselves at least.

  
  


Jason was capable of three things. Sleeping, eating and pooping. In that order. On repeat. Several times a day. Everyday. He knew nothing but when his diaper was full and his belly empty. Then sleep pulled him under again. Bruce tried to sleep when Jason did. Tried being the operative word. He spent almost every waking hour just watching Jason sleep. He took respite when he could. Bruce thought that Jason was exhausting as a teen. Now. Jason depends on Bruce for everything.

  
  


As Bruce wondered if he made the right decision keeping Jason, he began to hear the child stirring in his bassinet. Alfred had brought it down from the attic. It had been his once upon a time. It was in pristine condition. Alfred had made sure of that. Alfred set it up in Bruce's room as the room he wanted to put Jason in currently belonged to Dick.

  
  


Alfred had made grandiose plans to remove Dick to a bedroom in the east wing and remodel the old bedroom to something more baby appropriate. Alfred also noted that until Bruce was more in tune with Jason's sleep and feeding schedule it would be best to keep him close.

  
  


It was time for his four am feeding. Bruce carried his son down to the kitchen and placed Jason in his bouncy seat while he prepared the bottle. Much like older Jason, baby Jason loved to keep moving. His limbs were constantly kicking or punching. They had to keep little mittens over his hands because he kept poking himself in the eye or scratching his face.

  
  


Jason began to whine as the bottle was taking much too long for his liking.

  
  


“ Just a moment, Jaylad. Almost ready,” Bruce said sleepily. He tested the temperature and found it satisfactory. He quickly placed the nipple on the bottle and sat at the island in front of the baby. “Here you go bud.”

  
  


Jason's whines died down and Bruce looked at the clock.

  
  


**4:13am**

  
  


“ Happy two week anniversary of your rebirth. Here's hoping I don't mess it up.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  


Meet the Nanny - _Alfred's POV_

  
  


Alfred placed Jason into the motorized swing chair. He secured the fasteners across his tiny chest and set the swing to a slow pace. It clicked every time it swung to the right. No matter what he did, he could not silence the click. However Jason seemed to like it as it usually lulled him straight to sleep.

  
  


Alfred scrubbed his hand across his face as he settled at his desk. Miss Barbara and Master Tim had done a wonderful job searching for potential nannies to interview. They presented Alfred a wide pool of about two dozen candidates before he whittled the list down to who he felt were the best of the best.

  
  


His first two interviews hadn't quite gone as he expected. The women had bristled visibly when he informed them of the risk that comes from caring for the Wayne children. He needed them to understand that the older children had been targets of kidnapping and hostage situations in the past. A defenseless child would be an even juicier target.

  
  


His last candidate, Fiona Gilmore, was a proper British au pair. She was a small woman maybe around forty years of age. Her greying hair twisted into a tight bun at the base of her neck. She still held herself with the rigidity of her long past military training. Her experience was limited. She had only worked for one family. Fifteen years and four children of an affluent New England family till the last graduated middle school. The family was an acquaintance of the Wayne's and as such they offered her services before turning her out.

  
  


“ I have to admit Ms. Gilmore, I was hesitant to consider someone with such a limited CV. But you are the only one of the candidates that has a military background,” Alfred began.

  
  


“ I would expect that will be helpful when protecting the little one. I know that Mister Wayne's profile is much higher than my previous employer, but we did have a few skirmishes that my training was able to resolve.”

  
  


Alfred nodded curtly. She wouldn't bristle at risk like the other women. Yes, he thought, She'll make a fine addition to the household.

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
_Tim POV_

Trying to keep their civilian and vigilante lives hidden from the nanny had been surprisingly easy. Alfred placed Fiona in the bedroom next to Jason's nursery after moving Tim down the hall next to Dick. The nursery was across from Bruce and Damian's rooms. For more than a month their paths rarely crossed. Their nocturnal lives never bled into their civilian lives. No reason to suspect that the Wayne's were anything but insomniacs. Tim didn't have to work too hard to perpetuate that idea. Even though Fiona was hired specifically for Jason's care, she did express that she had concerns about the coffee addiction that Tim had.

  
  


“ I'm just saying, Master Tim, Miss Fiona does pose an excellent counterpoint. Perhaps you should listen to her,” Alfred stated.

  
  


Tim looked between Alfred and Fiona and felt the heat creep into his cheeks.

  
  


“ No fair teaming up on me. I only came into the kitchen for food,” Tim said as he sat at the kitchen table.

  
  


Jason sat in front of him on the table in his bouncy seat. Fiona stood in front of the stove as she heated his bottle. She insisted on doing things 'properly' when it came to Jason. This included breast milk from a co-op and reusable diapers. While Alfred was unhappy that she preferred reusable nappies instead of the disposable, he did acknowledge that it was better for the environment but also for Jason's sensitive skin.

  
  


Tim tickled the baby's belly and got a sleepy, drooling smile from the kid. Tim didn't spend a lot of time in the manor, but with the school semester having started, he had more downtime in the afternoons. He knew that Alfred would feed him. He could work in the cave on some of the more nighttime related projects. If he emerged in the late afternoon so he could be the one to feed Jason, well, he would deny it till his last breath.

  
  


Fiona passed Tim the bottle having approved of the temperature. Tim slid the nipple over Jason's lips and he greedily accepted the bottle. Tim smiled as he held the bottle. He had so many pictures on his phone of Jason eating, it wasn't funny. He pulled out his phone with one hand and opened the camera app. He framed Jason in the center of the frame and snapped the photo. All the photos were framed the same way. Tim used the photos as a way to track Jason's growth. At eight weeks old he had effectively doubled in size.

  
  


Jason was soon milk drunk and his eyes rolled back as he smiled. He made little suckling noises that Tim didn't find to be just the cutest thing ever. Nope.

  
  


A loud crash broke the peaceful quiet. The lights flickered once and then again and then the power was lost completely. Tim looked at Alfred worried. Alfred wiped his hands on his apron and headed toward the kitchen door. “Master Tim, why don't you take Miss Fiona and the baby to Master Bruce's office, hmm?”

  
  


Tim raised an eyebrow, but nodded in acknowledgment. Fiona picked Jason up out of the bouncy seat and followed Tim through the back hallway to the office.

  
  


“ What's going on?” Fiona whispered.

  
  


“ I don't know. I can check the security footage in Bruce's office. Since we are the only ones that are supposed to be here, Alfred is just taking precautions.”

  
  


They reached the office without difficulty and Tim quickly got to work checking all the closed circuit feeds that covered the manor well. The generator powered several key systems at the manor, including video surveillance, security, and of course, the cave. As he cycled through the footage, he found several things he didn't like. “There are people in the house. They have guns. Shit. Alfred is down.”

  
  


They're in the home theater room.

  
  


“ I didn't hear a shot,” Fiona said.

  
  


“ Neither did I,” Tim zoomed in on the image of Alfred laying on the floor in the ballroom. He had a bleeding wound on his forehead. Tim quickly deduced that the intruders were looking for something or someone in particular. Most likely Jason. Jason only left the house for doctor visits and an occasional shopping trip, but everytime he had gone out, the paparazzi managed to get pictures. The newborn son of a billionaire was a prime target for kidnapping and ransom.

  
  


He watched as the unorganized group of thugs inched their way closer to their hideout. Alfred wouldn't have sent Tim into Bruce's office with Fiona if he didn't think that he wouldn't need to send them down to the Batcave.

  
  


They're in the dining room.

  
  


“ Fiona,” Tim started as Jason began to fuss, “I need you to take Jason downstairs.”

  
  


Fiona tilted her head confused, “Downstairs? What downstairs?”

  
  


“ Think of it like a panic room,” Tim led her to the grandfather clock, “There is a computer down there. There is a big red button next to the computer that says 'panic'. Press it, okay?” Tim set the time on the clock to 10:48 and the locking mechanism disengaged. “Stay quiet. Stay in the shadows,” Tim pulled the clock open and revealed the stairs that led down to the secret space. “Do not come back up or open this door till Bruce comes to get you, clear?”

  
  


Fiona looked at him like he had three heads. But she held Jason closer to her chest as she nodded.

  
  


“ Great,” Tim said as he pushed the clock closed behind them and reengaged the lock. He glanced back at the monitor showing the men were in the next room.

  
  


They're in the library.

  
  


He was able to sneak out into the hall and tiptoed across the hall to Alfred's office. You would think it was Fiona's office with the amount of Jason's baby stuff laying about. It was amazing how much stuff a baby needed or rather, how much a wealthy man can buy for a two month old.

  
  


Tim was one of the few in the manor that knew of the secret passage from Alfred's office to the false wall in the ballroom. He followed the dark corridor and tried not to think of how many spiders were likely scuttling about. He reached the ballroom and scanned his surroundings before he stepped out into the open.

  
  


“ Alf. Alf,” Tim called for the downed man quietly.

  
  


Alfred stirred and groaned.

  
  


“ Hey Alf. Stay down. You must have got hit pretty hard. You've been down for more than five minutes,” Tim quietly checked Alfred for any other injuries and when he was satisfied that there weren't any, he allowed Alfred to sit up.

  
  


“ How many are there? I confronted five before I was dispatched,” Alfred asked.

  
  


“ I counted a dozen. Unorganized. Unprofessional. But heavily armed. It’s obvious, they have never worked together before. Sticking together instead of spreading out. They were about to go into Bruce's office.”

  
  


“ Jason?”

  
  


Tim kind of shrugged and looked guilty. “Fiona is about to get the shock of her life.”

  
  


Alfred nodded curtly. “I'm afraid it is a necessary evil. Bruce was aware this could happen. I had hoped it wouldn't have happened so soon.”

  
  


“ Why do the bad guys always come after us?” Tim asked earnestly.

  
  


Alfred placed a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder, “It will be alright, Master Tim. We've prepared for this.”

  
  


Tim and Alfred made their way back to the kitchen where there was a hidden cache of defensive and offensive weapons they could use to regain control of the manor themselves before the police showed. Tim filled a backpack with the tools he thought he would need to stop the thugs.

  
  


They briefly discussed a plan of action and then parted ways.

  
  


Tim moved toward the foyer and quickly ascended the stairs to the second floor. Some of the intruders had made their way upstairs to the bedrooms. They must have decided to split up as there were only six of them. He stuck close to the wall and peaked around the corner. The men were moving from Damian's room to Bruce's.

  
  


Tim moved into Damian's room. He put on his gas mask and broke the seal on the knock out gas canister. He chucked the canister into Bruce's room and shut the door. The intruders ran to the door and tried to open it. Tim pulled the door handle tight and within a few seconds he started to hear bodies dropping on the other side of the door.

  
  


Tim counted the bodies as they dropped unconscious. Only five. He waited for a few seconds but didn't hear anything. He was sure he counted six going into the room.

  
  


He had to get in and zip tie them. He pushed heavily against the door. The fallen intruders were piled right up against the door so it took some effort.

  
  


Once inside Bruce's bedroom he was in a fog of knock out gas. His mask helped him breath but it did little to help him see. He focused on the sounds in the room. He could identify five different breathing patterns from the five unconscious thugs. He paused his own breath and listened intensely.

  
  


Tim ducked and felt the air whoosh above him. He threw an uppercut and the sixth thug went down. The thug's own gas mask knocked off his face and he breathed in the fog. He would not be waking anytime soon.

  
  


Tim made quick work of tying up the bad guys. He opened the windows to air out the room and picked up the spent knock out gas canister. When the police inevitably arrived, he didn't want to leave evidence around.

  
  


He took off his gas mask as he headed back down the stairs. The security feed was going to his cell phone so he knew where to head next. Two of the intruders were holed up in the kitchen, ransacking the fridge and consuming Alfred's soup straight from the pot. Tim would make sure that Alfred replaced that ladle. He wouldn't be able to bear eating anything stirred or served with that ladle ever again.

  
  


He paused outside the kitchen as he watched Alfred dispatch one thug with an impressive sleeper hold. He gave his phone a satisfied nod and inputted a few commands into the security program.

  
  


Tim decided the best course was to completely black out the kitchen. He placed his domino mask firmly over his eyes and hit the enter command on his phone. Solid steel plates came down over the windows and the room fell into complete darkness. Tim quickly entered the kitchen and the domino mask automatically switched to night vision.

  
  


One of the thugs began swiping along the length of the wall trying to find a light switch.

  
  


“ You cut the power, you moron,” Tim said out loud as he stood right next to the man. The look on his face was comical. Unseeing eyes went wide and never saw Tim's fist coming at him.

  
  


At the sound of the down man dropping to the floor, the other thug truly looked like he would piss his pants. If he wasn't pointing an automatic weapon at him, Tim probably would have laughed. Instead he moved silently toward the thug.

  
  


“ Frankie? F-f-frankie?”

  
  


Tim moved out of the path of the gun barrel and came up behind him. He pulled out his taser and connected it against his neck. It caused him to seize still in the position he was in. Tim was able to relieve him of his weapon before he accidentally pulled the trigger.

  
  


Tim zip tied the men together and checked the security feed for his next task. There were only two goons left with Tim discovering Alfred having taken out another intruder in the library.

  
  


Tim tracked the remaining thugs to the ballroom. Tim guessed that they realized something wasn't right with their siege and were retreating to regroup. Or they just said 'screw this' and figured it wasn't worth it. But there was no way that Tim was going to let any of these guys get away. No one comes after his family. No one.

  
  


Tim released the steel plates from the kitchen windows letting the low afternoon sun fill the space. They had made it outside. The quickest way to get to them, was to go through the kitchen window.

  
  


They had a bit of a head start, but Tim was faster. He pulled his bo staff from his backpack and ran straight at them. The men were so shocked at the sudden appearance of a masked teenager they were not prepared for what hit them. Three seconds. Both men were down and unconscious. No bullets were fired. Alfred will have a hell of a headache, but no one in his family was hurt.

  
  


Twelve intruders were tied up and ready for the police that were now approaching the front gate.

  
  


Bruce arrived as Brucie Wayne. Panicked father who just wanted to get to his kids. Tim and Alfred made their statements to the police as they hauled the criminals away.

  
  


As the autumn sun finally set, Bruce, Tim and Alfred made their way to Bruce's office. When the grandfather clock opened, Fiona was waiting just on the other side with Jason.

  
  


“ He needs a nappy and a bottle. If you are to send us down there in the future please make sure that it is properly stocked,” she stated plainly as she stepped past them.

  
  


“ I'm sure you have many questions,” Bruce said.

  
  


“Only one. You are going to go after who is responsible for hiring those men?”

  
  


“ Of course,” Bruce answered.

  
  


“ Good. Now I must attend to Jason.”

  
  


Bruce, Tim and Alfred all looked at each other with surprise.

  
  


“ I'm sorry you had to find out this way,” Alfred confessed.

  
  


“ I knew there would be risk in accepting this position. I thought I would have to do all the heavy lifting when someone eventually went after this little one. I'm pleased to know that isn't the case,” Fiona said firmly.

  
  


She left the three in a stunned silence.

  
  


Tim turned to Bruce, “We are so keeping her, right?”

  
  


Bruce placed an arm around Tim's shoulder and squeezed. “She knows our secret and is willing to change Jason's stinky diapers. Of course we're keeping her.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


–

Halloween - _Dick's POV_  
  
  


“ No.”

  
  


“ Come on, B. He's a baby. He's going to get a kick out of this when he is older.”

  
  


“ No.”

  
  


“ It's his first Halloween,” Dick's eyes looked up and debated whether he should elaborate on it actually being his second first Halloween. Sometimes the minutiae made his head hurt.

  
  


“ No.”

  
  


“ I already bought the costumes.”

  
  


Bruce glared at him.

  
  


Dick smiled. Cheeky.

  
  


So that was how Bruce dressed as Superman and Jason dressed as the Green Lantern became one of Dick's most liked photos on Instagram.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I having most of Jason's first year written, but I keep going back and adding more or editing. I expect the second part of Year One to be up by Halloween. :D


	3. Year One Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Jason's first fall, first gala, first Christmas, first tooth, first word, first step and first birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this work of fiction. There is one more chapter still in the works which contains the whole reason I started this story to begin with. I hope I can flesh it out and have it finished and edited by next weekend. *fingers crossed* 
> 
> Thank you to those who have stuck around so far and left me kudos and/or comments. 
> 
> As with the previous chapter there are shifting POV's. I denoted where a POV other than Bruce begins.

Bruce didn’t mean to drop him. Of course he didn't. Bruce picked him up out of his crib and he was so wiggly and just kind of jumped out. He fell on the carpeted floor and Bruce immediately picked him up. Jason didn’t cry. He just stared at Bruce like he was waiting for an apology. Bruce checked him over and couldn't find any injuries. He weighed whether he should rush him to emergency. He deemed Jason to be okay.

  
  


If it wasn’t for the big purple goose egg that developed just under his hairline, no one would ever have known.

  
  


Dick had come over to give Jason a bath. That was his excuse anyway. He sent a group text with the photographic evidence of Jason's injury to the family asking who was responsible. Bruce was forced to own up that he dropped the three month old. He cursed himself for not finding the bump during his cursory check. He thought he had lucked out when Jason hadn't broken out into tears.

  
  


Fiona and Alfred tried for two weeks to get Bruce to hold the baby again. Alfred insisted he wasn’t mad and that he trusted him. Fiona explained that these things happened, it was an accident. Jason was okay. Damian and Dick, however, teamed up against Bruce and wouldn't let him near Jason without supervision.

  
  


When Bruce finally did hold Jason again, the kid just stared at him like he did before.  Bruce  wrinkled his brow. “I’m sorry, Jaylad.”

  
  


Jason smiled and wiggled almost out of his grip.

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  


It started with Oswald Cobblepot.

  
  


The annual Wayne Enterprises Holiday Party was the event of the season. So of course Bruce had planned for one of the Rogues to crash it. He had no intention of bringing Jason. Then Alfred produced a tiny tuxedo and he became resigned to the idea that he would indeed be bringing Jason. He always had his children attend these types of events when they were available. Jason shouldn't have been any different just because he was a baby. Bruce was not the Batman in public. He had to operate as if he didn't expect a Rogue to crash his party.

  
  
  
  


He hadn't quite expected the Penguin though. All the goons had crowded the massive hotel ballroom and pointed their umbrella guns at huddled groups of guests. Others began relieving guests of their wallets and jewelry. Cobblepot walked through the crowd and toward the stage on the far end. He tapped the microphone with the end of his umbrella and cleared his throat.

  
  


“Season's greetings Gothamites! We would like to thank you very much for your end of the year contribution to our cause.”

  
  


Bruce had quietly handed off Jason to Fiona and pushed the pair under the banquet table.

  
  


“Our year has been very productive, but alas we found ourselves in the red. We all know how that can be.”

  
  


Dick had crouched low, looking ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

  
  


“Brucie Wayne's generosity is unprecedented. So no doubt he will reimburse any funds we collect from you this evening.”

  
  


Tim had quietly pressed the panic button on his phone that would alert Gotham PD of the current situation.

  
  


“You have all been so lovely tonight. We are at the beginning of the end.”

  
  


Cass slipped on a pair of brass knuckles.

  
  


“Goomba stark moving thumb sink.”

  
  


The quiet murmur that had been present since the Rogue walked in, had silenced as everyone looked toward the stage.

  
  


“Bask goo mimd gdskl.”

  
  


Those closest to the stage could see the left side of Cobblepot's face droop as his speech continued to slur.

  
  


“What's going on?” Henchman number one asked.

  
  


“I dunno. Looks like he's having a stroke.” Henchman number two replied.

  
  


Bruce and Alfred approached the stage at the same time. They caught Cobblepot as he dropped. Alfred quickly searched for a pulse and found none. Bruce began performing chest compressions as he shouted for someone to call 9-1-1.

  
  


Some of Penguin's henchmen had the sense to make a hasty exit, others too dumbfounded to anything but watch. By the time the police arrived Bruce had ceased CPR. Dr. Thompkins declared official time of death.

  
  


As bizarre as the whole situation had been, no one realized at the time how prophetic his last coherent words would be.

  
  


Before Jason's first birthday, more than a dozen Rogues had been moved permanently from the chess board.

  
  


Only two weeks after Cobblepot passed, Victor Fries had perished in an experiment gone wrong.

  
  


In February, Harvey Dent died from a skin infection, of all things.

  
  


Edward Nigma was killed by a drunk driver while crossing the street.

  
  


One of Joker's former henchmen declared that 'the clown has left town' after calling Gotham cursed following the death of the Riddler. The Batman found corroborating evidence that he forced a reluctant Harley Quinn with him. He tracked them all the way to Russia.

  
  


Tim had found two videos on the dark web uploaded by a mask that called themselves Nexus. The first video featured Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow being tortured and then murdered by having his throat slashed. The second video featured the same outcome for Bane. The Bats were able to track down the warehouse where the murders occurred and found the bodies still laying where they fell in the videos. They were unable to track down Nexus.

  
  


If half of Gotham's vegetation hadn't died in the middle of summer, they never would have known that Pamela Isley had broken her neck when she tripped over a root. It took a while to find her hideout so they could give her a proper burial.

  
  


Deadshot, Strange and Killer Croc were all in Argus custody.

  
  


Black Mask, Roman Sionis, was in a federal prison on RICO charges.

  
  


Many remaining criminals just packed up and left to find greener pastures.

  
  


Dozens of brave men and women had joined Gotham police to replace the corrupt cops that Commissioner Gordon had finally managed to rid from the force.

  
  


Gotham was becoming just like any other American city. Yes, there was crime, but with so many major players gone away, it was manageable.

  
  


Beginning of the end, indeed.

  
  


–

  
  


_ Fiona’s POV _

  
  


For Christmas, Fiona bought Jason a pop-up book that depicted life at the circus. The pages had little bits cut out that made two dimensional figures and a button to press for sounds that corresponded to the image on the page. It had pages of baby animals like elephants and chimpanzees. There was a page that looked like an overfilled popcorn bucket. And there was a page that had clowns.

  
  


She didn't understand then. She didn't understand why he screamed and twisted in her lap. She didn't understand why he cried when the clowns laughed. She didn't understand why he tried to hide himself and kept pushing the book away.

  
  


Fiona struggled with the five month old. She dropped the book on the floor and pulled Jason into a more comforting position against her shoulder.

  
  


Damian stepped in the room and quickly took stock of the situation. The button on the book seemed to be stuck as the clowns’ laugh kept repeating. Damian zeroed in on the offensive sound and the obvious distress of his little brother. He picked up the book and with a surprising amount of strength he tore it in half. The clown stopped laughing.

  
  


“Damian? What on earth?” Fiona asked exasperated.

  
  


Bruce's large frame soon filled Jason's doorway. He looked at the scene before him and stepped into the room. He pulled Jason from Fiona's grip and the little boy latched onto him like a koala.

  
  


Damian showed Bruce the book he tore and the page it was on.

  
  


“Jason doesn't like clowns,” Damian turned and walked out the door.

  
  


Fiona stumbled an apology but Damian did not want to hear it. “Master Bruce, I am terribly sorry. I did not know that the little one had an aversion to clowns. I promise to be mindful in the future.”

  
  


Bruce had managed to calm Jason down to the point where he was rubbing his eyes sleepily. “There was no way you could have known.”

  
  


Fiona stepped forward and ran her hand over Jason's head. He was starting to develop baby blond peach fuzz. Bruce wondered how long it would be until Jason started to grow his lovely thick curls.

  
  


“I'm sorry to have upset the babe. It was not my intention. Are there any other triggers I should be aware of?” Fiona asked thoughtfully.

  
  


Bruce moved over to the crib and laid Jason down. His eyes were closed and his breathing evened out. His face red and splotchy and had dried tear streaks on his cheeks. Bruce leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Jason's forehead.

  
  


Bruce stood up but his eyes never left the child in the crib. “I think you and I need to talk.”

  
  


Bruce led Fiona down to his office. Bruce pulled a framed photo off the wall and handed it to her. It was a simple photo of Bruce with a young boy. At first glance she thought maybe it was Damian but when she looked closer she realized that it was Bruce's deceased son, the one Jason is named after.

  
  


“This is my son Jason.”

  
  


“He was a lovely looking boy. I'm sorry for your loss.”

  
  


Bruce shifted from one foot to the other. “I lost him when he was fifteen. The Joker killed him. Beat him with a crowbar and then left him and his biological mother to be blown up in a warehouse in Ethiopia. I was unable to save him.”

  
  


Fiona looked at Bruce with wide eyes. She remembered the media reporting the boy's death. Terrorists attack overseas somewhere. Hearing that he was actually killed by the Joker was rather disturbing.

  
  


“I- I didn't know.”

  
  


“No one did. Jason was my Robin once upon a time. When he died – I – did not take it well,” Bruce took back the framed photo and put it back on the wall. He pulled another frame off the wall and handed it to her, “This is my son Jason.”

  
  


Fiona looked at the photo in the frame. The photo was – not possible. It was obvious that it was taken recently. It was a picture of Damian riding the shoulders of an older looking boy that looked a lot like the boy in the other photo. But how is that possible? She knew that Jason died five years ago. She knew that Bruce only discovered Damian two years ago.

  
  


She looked to Bruce for clarification.

  
  


“Jason came back from the dead. No one knows how,” Bruce shook his head and let out a shaky breath, “He wasn't the same. He had been through a lot. To say the least.”

  
  


Fiona tried to think of what to say. She knew that there were things that happened in Gotham that didn't always make sense. But a resurrection?

  
  


Bruce sat down and invited Fiona to do the same.

  
  


“On August sixteenth of last year, Jason died again,” Bruce let out another shaky breath. The subject was obviously still too tender to touch upon, but he continued. “Jason was resurrected again. But this time was very different.”

  
  


Fiona's eyes widened once more. She looked up to the ceiling and let out a small huff of air.

  
  


“You mean that-,” she pointed up, “- is Jason?  _ The _ Jason?” she looked back down the framed photo.

  
  


Bruce nodded, “He died on his twentieth birthday. He was reborn in a blinding white light at  **4:13am** . My son died in my care and left me no time to grieve for him because something in the universe decided that he wasn't finished yet. The universe decided that his second chance wasn't enough, that he needed to start over. Decided that he would be left the memories of his old life, that he should be afraid of clowns. That everything we experienced was not good enough the first time around... he- he died and – and he came back. He remembers. He-,” Bruce seemed to lose steam. He scrubbed a hand down his face and reached for the frame in her hand.

“Master Bruce,” she placed a hesitant hand over his, “No matter what he may remember of his past, the only thing that matters now is his future.”

  
  


He looked at the picture with such love and reverence before standing to replace back on the wall. He made sure it was straightened before touching the subjects of the photo gently and continuing.

  
  


“So, Jason doesn't like clowns.”

  
  


\--

  
  


_ Alfred's POV _

  
  


Alfred pulled the teething ring out of the freezer and quickly made his way back to Master Jason's bedroom. The poor lad was cutting his first tooth. Or rather teeth. When he ran his finger across his gums he was surprised to discover that there were three teeth ready to erupt. As such, Master Jason was in abject misery. The only thing that seemed to help was the frozen ring that was shaped like a giraffe. Alfred bought a dozen and kept the rings on a rotation of freezing, sterilizing and usage. He could hear Master Jason's pitiful wails all the way to the kitchen.

  
  


“Thank you, Alfred,” Master Bruce said as he took the proffered ring and quickly slid it into Master Jason's mouth.

  
  


Alfred collected the used ring to be sterilized and then refrozen. Master Jason's cries had winded down to more tolerable whimper as he gummed the ring greedily. Master Bruce had come home from patrol and been up most of the night with the boy trying to sooth his pain. The previous night Fiona had stayed up with him. He expected and actually looked forward to spending the next night with the young Master.

  
  


Alfred placed a gentle hand on Master Jason's head. The boy eyed him wearily.

  
  


“It'll be okay Master Jason.”

  
  


Master Jason responded by taking his teething ring out of his mouth and waving his arms around. This caused the ring to fly from his little hand. Alfred snatched it out of the air before it landed on his face.

  
  


“Whoa there, chum,” Master Bruce laughed as he took the ring and placed it back into Master Jason's hand.

Master Jason gladly put the ring back into his mouth and began gumming it again. 

“How many days does it take for the tooth to grow in and it stops hurting him?” Master Bruce asked.

Alfred sighed, “Four to eight days.”

Alfred looked at the clock. 

**4:13am**

It would be a long week for the Waynes. 

  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  


Sunday dinners had become the new normal at the Wayne manor. If they were planet side they made their way to manor to have a proper meal. Alfred had been trying to get them together for years, since Jason's rebirth they have been much more consistent with endeavor.

  
  


Jason sat in his highchair between Bruce and Dick and across from Damian. Dick was filming Jason for his Instagram as he happily munched on Cheerios. Jason babbled and pointed at the phone.

  
  


"Come on Jay, say Dada. Can you say Dada?" Dick prodded.

"Dick, he's eating. Leave him alone," Bruce said.

Dick pointed to Bruce and asked Jason, "Who's that, Little Wing? Is that Dada? Is that Dada?"

"Tt. Everyone knows that babies say Mama before they say Dada. The emm sound is easier for them to articulate."

Bruce looked bewildered. "Well," Bruce scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, “he doesn't have a mother. And -.”

"He can say bottle," Tim provided.

  
  


“He does not say bottle.”

  
  


“He says baba.”

"Baba is not a word unless he's learning to speak goat."

"Ha!" Cass laughed.

"Whoa! Did the gremlin make a joke?" Tim asked.

"Tim," Bruce said in a warning tone.

"Come on, Jay. Throw me a bone here. You're cute and all, but you're running short on new material."

"You're just trying to get more likes. You care nothing for your baby brother's development,” Damian snarled.

"Yeah, Dick. You shouldn't encourage him to talk anymore. That will do wonders for his development." Tim said sarcastically.

"I already submitted that baba is his first word in his baby book," Alfred offered hoping that would settle the argument brewing.

The dining room exploded in chatter as everyone, save Cass, had begun talking over each other. Jason continued to babble in incomprehensible baby blather.

“I am concerned that he is not meeting the established CDC developmental milestones that he should be at this age,” Damian started.

  
  


“He is,” Bruce crossed his arms across his chest defensively, “he's standing up in the playpen and -.”

  
  


“You mean his cage?”

Fiona stifled a laugh.

  
  


“Damian!”

"Dada."

  
  


“So he babbles?”

  
  


“He should be able to say mama and dada by now.”

  
  


“Well,” Bruce shifted and turned to Damian, “again, no mother.”

  
  


“He hasn't called you dada yet.” Damian words stung.

  
  


“He remembers he doesn't like clowns. Maybe he remembers he doesn't you.”

  
  


“Master Timothy.”

  
  


“Maybe he doesn't like me. Maybe that means-.”

  
  


“B,” Dick said, “that doesn't mean anything.”

  
  


“But shouldn't he be saying it by-?”

  
  


“Dami,” Bruce sighed.

"Dada"

All eyes turned to Jason. He was reaching out toward Bruce and kicking his legs. No one dared breath in that moment for fear that they didn't hear what they thought they heard.

  
  


Jason continued reaching toward Bruce and Jason grew frustrated when he couldn't touch him. He squirmed in the highchair and his little face scrunched up. “Dada,” Jason whined as he tried to get out of the seat.

“I'm r ight here, Jaylad,” Bruce said as he released Jason from the confines of the highchair and took him into his arms.

  
  


Jason reached out and held Bruce's face in his little hands and said, “Dada,” again with a bright smile.

  
  


“Good timing, kiddo,” Bruce replied with a bright smile of his own.

“O-M-G! I caught that all on video.”

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  


Bruce couldn't concentrate. He was sure today would be the day. Jason had been standing up on his own for a couple of weeks now. He would hold on to things to help him move along, but he always fell when he let go. Jason would walk on shaky legs if Bruce held his hands. But Bruce was sure today would be the day that Jason took his first unassisted steps.

  
  


He didn't want to miss it, but he had a board meeting. Mandatory attendance. He kept looking at his watch as Lucius continued to drone on about the latest research project going into development. He must have sensed Bruce's restlessness as he quickly concluded his presentation and set every one loose.

  
  


Bruce grabbed his jacket and thanked Lucius as he ran toward the elevator.

  
  


“Try not to get pulled over!” Lucius called after him.

  
  


Bruce waved his hand and tapped his foot while he waited for the elevator doors to close.

  
  


If Bruce made it back to the manor in record time, he'd never tell. The gravel was still settling when Bruce made it to the front door.

  
  


Damian and Jason were in the foyer. Damian was holding Jason's hands as the boy took tentative steps in his direction. Bruce crouched low and held his arms out for the boy.

  
  


Jason smiled as he toddled out of Damian's hands and took the three steps to his father's waiting arms. Bruce embraced the boy tightly and kissed his forehead.

  
  


“My Jaylad,” Bruce beamed.

  
  


“Dada,” Jason babbled as he stuck his fingers in his mouth.

  
  


Bruce was so excited to see Jason walking he failed to notice that everyone else was watching as well.

  
  


“I can't believe I actually got that on camera. B, Great timing. I couldn't have planned that if I tried,” Dick said from his perch on the banister.

  
  


“That was rather good timing Father. I thought you would miss this milestone.”

  
  


Bruce hadn't stopped smiling since he opened the door. “I wouldn't miss this for the world.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Every Wayne and honorary Wayne was sitting out on the patio around the dining table. The warm summer sun was kept at bay by the awning overhead.

  
  


Jason was seated at the head of the table wearing a red cone shaped hat and a smile as bright as the sun. Dick affixed a Batcam to the party hat so to capture everything from the one year old’s point of view. Alfred made Jason his own personal chocolate cake. Jason gladly dove right in and was covered in the sticky sweet dessert.

  
  


Bruce, Alfred, And Fiona chattered as the kids ran around on a sugar high. They seemed to be playing some combination of tag and pin the tail on the donkey. Bruce relished this time. His kids had a hard time just being kids. Jason was the kick in the bums that they needed to remind them to enjoy life. Dick and Steph did everything they could to make Jason laugh. It was the most pure sound that ever graced their ears.

  
  


Jason managed to get out of his booster seat and tried to join in on the fun. He toddled around in circles chasing his big brothers and sisters around the room and squealing in delight.

  
  


Jason took the party all in stride. He was fascinated by the balloons and streamers. He knew the day was for him, but he didn’t seem to understand the attention. He had gone around the room making contact with everyone. Little did anyone know, Jason was marking his territory. Bruce watched as Jason left behind little chocolate hand prints on everyone.

  
  


Bruce couldn't wait to watch the footage.

  
  


As the evening sun settled low in the sky, Jason had been cleaned up and changed into his pyjamas. Bruce began what had become their nightly ritual. He brought Jason to his room and sat with him in the rocking chair to read him a story while he consumed the last bottle of the day.

  
  


Alfred had brought the rocking chair down from the attic. It was the rocking chair that Martha Wayne had nursed and rocked Bruce in when he was a baby.

  
  


Bruce rocked and read Jason 'Goodnight Moon'. He stayed all night in the rocking chair. Jason slept comfortably on his chest. Bruce wasn't sure if the fear would ever go away.

  
  


**4:13am**

  
  


“Happy birthday, Jason,” Bruce whispered at the clock ticked over to the time.

  
  


Bruce got up carefully from the rocking chair. He would feel stiff later from spending too long in the chair. He carefully laid Jason in his crib. The crib was not an antique from the attic, but rather a new one that was the highest recommended for safety.

  
  


Jason would sleep through the night. Fiona would wake him up at seven am to start the day. Bruce would take the day off to spend with the boy. The Gotham petting zoo would be closed for a few hours while Jason went crazy over every single animal he could get his grubby little hands on. Damian would make sure his little brother pet each animal carefully just like he taught him to do with Titus. Dick would take too many photos. Cass would laugh. Tim would complain about allergies. Steph would step in manure. Cass would laugh.

  
  


They made it through year one. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few moments in time for ages 16-40 months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I have one more chapter. This one is kind of filler I had mostly written. The next chapter should be a sort of conclusion. I am not as finished with it as I would like. But the bones are there. Just gotta fatten it up. 
> 
> Once more- thank you for the wonderful feedback. For my first foray into the batman fandom, I am overwhelmed by your responses. 
> 
> Also of note- I tried to emulate a toddlers way of speech by writing certain words like how he would pronounce them. They are not spelling mistakes.

The first real nightmare came when Jason was sixteen months old. Bruce couldn't decipher much amongst the screaming, wailing cries, except for the word 'clown'. Hearing it knocked the wind right out of him. Jason had an aversion to anything clown related. It took several minutes to get his son to calm enough that he might be able to get him back to sleep. Bruce rocked him back and forth whispering reassuring words. He rubbed small circles on his back and placed gentle kisses in his soft curls.

  
  


He brought Jason back to his room and laid him down in the middle of his bed. He built a pillow wall along one edge so Jason wouldn't roll off. He lined the floor with cushions in case he did.

  
  


Bruce watched Jason's long lashes flutter against his splotchy red cheeks. He placed his hand over Jason's chest, feeling the patter of his heart under his palm. His lips soon parted and the room was filled with his soft snores. It must have been peaceful because Bruce followed his son into an overdue sleep.

  
  
  
  


The morning greeted him by having his left eye forcibly opened by tiny fingers.

  
  


"Dada wake?" Jason asked, peering into his open eye like he was studying him.

  
  


Bruce shifted and removed Jason's fingers from his face. He pulled Jason closer and blew a quick raspberry on his belly exposed by his pyjama top having rolled up. The action sent him into a fit of giggles.

  
  


"Dada stop!" Jason squealed loudly. It only prompted Bruce to delight his son. He picked him up and blew another raspberry on his belly.

  
  


Damian burst through Bruce's bedroom door as to put an abrupt end to the noise. Except it didn't. Jason reached out in Damian's direction and called out, "Ahki!"

  
  


It did not matter in the least what reason Damian had barged into the room. Damian was wrapped around Jason's little finger. When it came to his little brother, Damian melted under his whim. Any tension he carried receded when Jason called him 'Ahki'. It had been Damian's word for the older Jason, but somehow the term was used once and it stuck.

  
  


“Ahki! Ahki!” Jason chanted until Damian approached the bed. Jason wiggled from Bruce's grip and crawled to the pillow wall separating him from his brother.

  
  


“Good morning, ahki. What are you doing in Father's bed?”

  
  


Jason shrugged and pointed to Bruce. “Dada,” as if that explained everything. To Damian, it did.

  
  


“You want breakfast?” Damian asked.

  
  


Jason held out his arms for Damian to pick him up. “Beckfass. Beckfass,” he chanted happily in the age appropriate baby talk. Damian pulled Jason up from the bed and perched him on his hip.

  
  


“I'll join you after my shower,” Bruce stated as he rose from the bed.

  
  


Bruce discretely pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of his children. Their hair askew from sleep. Their pyjama's wrinkled. Their attention only on each other. Damian was tickling Jason's bare belly and his head was thrown back in laughter.

  
  


The photo sits in a frame on his desk.

  
  


–

  
  


It amused Bruce how easily Jason was entertained by bright lights. The holiday lights were kept up till March because Jason threw a fit every time they tried to take them down. Finally the thought occurred to hang the lights in Jason’s bedroom. It turned out to be a satisfying solution.

  
  


The fireworks that brightened the night sky did the same for his little boy’s face. He watched with wide eyed wonder at the bright lights and didn't seem too perturbed by the loud explosions. As soon as they were over, when all the families were clearing their belongings, Jason looked up with bright eyes and said “Again, dada.”

  
  


“We can do it again tomorrow, bud. That's it for tonight,” Bruce responded as he tucked Jason into the pram.

  
  


Jason was growing up fast. Everyday his vocabulary got bigger or he outgrew another outfit. Everyday was a new freckle on his nose. Everyday was another day closer to him going to school, to driving, to love, to heartbreak, to leaving the homestead. His hair grew darker and curlier. Everyday Jason looked more and more like – well – Jason. His sparkling blue eyes, the shape of his mouth, his nose less sharp than it was in adulthood.

  
  


Everyday was another hurdle to overcome. Old memories mingled with new. His toddler mind was unable to process the old memories and it frustrated him immensely. He remembered faces and could call people he just met by their names. He remembered how his favourite movies ended. He remembered piano pieces that he or Alfred taught him. He remembered his mother and cried for her frequently.

  
  


Jason was too old for naps, he declared on an otherwise unremarkable day. For days he fought Fiona about taking a nap. He stayed up all day long and crashed hard at night. Bruce had thought this was a good thing seeing as he was sleeping longer through the night. The problem came from the inability for Alfred and Fiona to complete their “Jason’s taking a nap” tasks. A concept lost on him since working days at Wayne Enterprises corporate office in Gotham proper. Alfred soon found a simple solution. If Jason didn’t want to nap, Bruce would be responsible for him. Not the daycare, but Bruce himself. Jason wouldn't have it any other way. Jason loved to watch him work.

  
  


Jason may have only been a toddler, but he had a mind like a sponge. He absorbed everything around him. He listened to every conversation around him. He listened to the gossip, he listened to the technicians talk shop, watched everything like a hawk. Bruce never realized just how much Jason absorbed in his time spent at the office until Lucius came to Bruce with an engine problem he couldn't identify. While he and Bruce discussed possible diagnoses, Jason tugged on Bruce’s pant leg.

  
  


Sure enough, it was a clogged intake valve.

  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  
  
  


Batman was considered a top notch detective, but he could not seem to solve the mystery of Nexus. He had mixed feeling about the deaths of Bane and Scarecrow, but he couldn't abide murder in his city. Nexus left no evidence of the crime save for the videos uploaded to the dark web.

  
  


For months Bruce reviewed the videos. There was no audio which normally wouldn't be a problem since Bruce could read lips. However Nexus wore a full face mask and Scarecrow and Bane both wore their usual face coverings. It was obvious in the video that they were speaking, but he had no way to know what they were saying.

  
  


The next video that Tim found from Nexus was of Mad Hatter. It was a live feed that showed the man tied up and fighting his binds. When the Bats tracked him down, he was alive. A considerable amount of damning evidence was found with him. Video recordings of secretive meetings, blueprints, and schematics of his latest target all wrapped in a neat little bow. Even Commissioner Gordon was impressed with the evidence of his next diabolical crime spree. Mad Hatter would be going away for a very long time.

  
  


Only a few months later the same thing happened with Duela Dent. All the evidence of her crimes stacked on a table beside her.

  
  


It seemed that every few months Nexus would capture a Rogue and unlike Scarecrow and Bane, they'd leave them for the Bats to bring in.

  
  


If it hadn't been for the deaths of Scarecrow and Bane, Bruce might have considered Nexus an ally.

  
  


“Did you really bring the kid with you?” Amanda Waller asked as she looked at the toddler coloring in a highchair.

  
  


“It's my nanny's night off,” Bruce replied.

  
  


“Don’t you have a whole nest of birds that could babysit?”

  
  


“They’re off world.”

  
  


Waller paused briefly before shaking her head and then sat down in the booth. “Well, I'll make this quick. I don't have anything that can help you. Nexus isn't on our radar. Our investigation came up with diddly.”

  
  


“Diddly? Is that the official terminology?”

  
  


“Yes. Diddly. As in squat. Bubkus. Zilch. Nada.”

  
  


“That's what I'm afraid of,” Bruce sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand down his face.

  
  


“I don't know why you even want to find him. From what I understand he's been making your job a hell of a lot easier.”

  
  


“He murdered Jonathan Crane and Bane. And while I have no definitive proof, I think he may have had a hand in the deaths of Fries and Isley. He needs to face justice.”

  
  


"Well, I'll keep searching for him. But I gotta tell ya, it's not a priority."

  
  


"Hm."

  
  


Waller softened a bit as she looked at Jason. "Speaking of priorities. You know. I thought for sure that this little guy would have made you retire from your night job by now."

  
  


"One day. When there are no more nightmares that can get him,” Bruce said as he pushed some stray hairs from Jason's face. Jason needed a haircut. Bruce was dreading the next new first.

  
  


Waller clicked her tongue. "If that's the case then you can never expect to retire. There will always be another nightmare. As soon as you handle one, the next comes harder and scarier than before. That's the world we live. That's parenthood. Speaking of which. I need to get home to my munchkins before they forget what I look like."

  
  


Waller left the diner and Bruce looked to Jason. "That could have gone better."

  
  


"Dada colour," Jason held out his favourite red crayon.

  
  


Bruce looked around the quiet diner,  "What do you say about getting something to eat, huh, chum?"

  
  


Jason threw his arms in the air and yelled, "Batburger!"

  
  


Bruce chuckled and replied, "Ok, I guess we're going to Batburger then."

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  
  


The kid was slick. He had to give him that. Bruce never considered putting a leash on his child before. He was definitely thinking about it now. Once he found him that was. Fiona was going to kill him. He wanted to bring Jason to the store to pick out a present for Alfred for Father's day. He only let go of his hand for a moment. Just a brief moment to sign for the purchase.

  
  


Bruce paced the store in a complete panic looking for the waddling bundle of energy. He eyed the exit and hoped that Jason hadn’t gotten outside.

  
  


A peak of dark curls caught his eye. He found Jason in front of the gun selection. He pointed to a particular handgun, an IWI Jericho 941. The same model adult Jason favoured.

  
  


“Dada, mine,” Jason looked at Bruce expectantly.

  
  


Bruce crouched down and picked Jason up. Bruce could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. “Jaylad, you cannot go off by yourself again. You scared me.”

  
  


Jason wriggled in Bruce's grip. He twisted his body till he could see the glass gun case again. He pointed again to the Jericho, “Dada, mine. Mine. Dada.”

  
  


Jason began to pitch a tantrum as Bruce led him away. He screamed in his ear and hit him in the face until he dissolved into tears.

  
  


The tabloids made it seem like it was a bad thing to deny buying his barely two year old son a handgun.

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  


Jason stood just outside of arms reach. Every step Bruce took, Jason took three back. With his arms folded firmly across his chest in defiance, Bruce realized that he was only mere moments away from a full on tantrum. Tears already streaked down his pale cheeks.

  
  


Bruce eyed the target of Jason’s desire. With wary skepticism, he turned it towards him to get a better look. Jason’s eyes lit up as he watched the shining silver reflect the sun. Bruce shook his head, but he relented.

  
  


Soon Jason was sporting a new Superman shaped helium balloon tied to his wrist.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  


Jason wouldn’t stop tugging at his ear, coughing, and crying. Not really crying, but wailing in utter misery. The crying led to coughing and sniffling. The clinic was crowded with kids with dripping noses and their inattentive parents. Even after Bruce and Jason were ushered into an exam room, they still had waited another hour before Leslie came in very apologetic.

  
  


Jason had grown subdued. The wailing had given way to sniffles and finally to complete passiveness. His little body was a furnace against Bruce’s chest. Leslie spent less than a minute checking his ears and listening to his lungs. She wrote out a prescription for antibiotics. She said that Jason should be fine, but if his fever got too high or he struggled to breath, don't wait, bring him to emergency.

  
  


Jason's fever peaked at 102.2. He was admitted into the pediatric ICU late evening of August fifteenth. Bruce spent the day at his side, doing his best not to be reminded of Jason's fate on his twentieth birthday. Bruce sent Alfred home to get a few of Jason’s presents.

  
  


Alfred returned to the hospital an hour later than expected. Jason’s face lit up as his brothers and sisters trailed behind him like ducklings.

  
  


Damian immediately crawled into bed with Jason and pulled him into a hug. He was careful not to jostle his IV or nasal cannula. Dick, Cass and Steph each gave their hugs and kisses to the little boy. Tim stayed in the corner. He wore a face mask and gloves. Bruce was glad that he was taking precautions.

  
  


“Tim!” Jason called as he reached for his brother.

  
  


“I’m sorry little man, I can’t. I don’t want to get sick too,” Tim tried to sound upbeat.

  
  


“You sick too?” Jason asked.

  
  


Damian pulled Jason into his lap. “Tim has a condition that allows him to get sick easily. But he wanted to see you so very much, he risked coming here.”

  
  


Jason looked expectantly at Tim. Bruce could see the tears that threatened to spill on his cheeks. He was sick and he wanted his family. Very few could deny the boy much of anything. One look of his sweet innocent face and most were under his spell. No matter how convincing Jason's puppy dog eyes were, Tim could not give in. Jason had pneumonia. Tim had no spleen. Damian held the soon to be two year old a little tighter to him sensing his distress.

  
  


Jason began to squirm in Damian's grip, “I want Tim. Tim! I want Tim!” he cried over and over until he fell into a coughing fit.

  
  


Tim closed his eyes and shook his head. Bruce relieved Damian of Jason and held him on his lap in the chair next to the bed. Dick had followed Tim from the room as Jason's cries became too much for him. Bruce did his best to comfort his son. But Jason was stubborn and he had his mind set on something. He didn't understand why Tim wouldn't hug him. He just knew that he was being denied something he wanted.

  
  


Bruce doesn't even want to know where Tim and Dick managed to get a hazmat suit. It may not have been comfortable for Tim but Jason loved it. He hung on Tim until visiting hours were over. Jason was placated and Tim stayed safe.

  
  


Jason's fever broke at  **4:13am** .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  


Fiona arrived in the Batcave completely stoic. She held Jason out in front of her at arm's length. Jason was handed off to Bruce like an old sack. His hands and face were covered in all the colors of the rainbow.

  
  


“You deal with him,” Fiona demanded just before she stormed off.

  
  


Bruce placed Jason on the floor and crouched down in front of him. “What did you do to make the nanny so huffy? Huh, bud?”

  
  


“Just tryin ta help.” The innocence of youth prevalent in his voice.

  
  


“Trying to help do what?”

  
  


“Granpa said he wanna paint da kitchen. I help.”

  
  


Bruce  took another look at Jason’s hands and face and realized they were covered in his finger paints.

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Bruce begged Jason to go to sleep.

  
  


“Want to sleep in the little bed Daddy,” Jason countered.

  
  


“We talked about this Jaylad. This is your bed now. You’re a big boy.”

  
  


“What if I fall out?”

  
  


“You have guard rails to keep you safe.”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Jason. Please. Go to sleep. Daddy’s very tired.” Bruce rubbed his eyes for effect.

  
  


“Can I play with ahki?”

  
  


“Damian’s asleep. Like you should be.”

  
  


Jason bit on his bottom lip. “I want to sleep in the little bed.”

  
  


“Jason. Enough. You sleep in this bed.”

  
  


Fiona woke up to find Bruce sleeping on the couch with Jason on his chest.

  
  


“You're enabling him. He won't get accustomed to it if you coddle him.”

  
  


“It was just one night, Fiona. He'll sleep in his bed tonight, won't you, big man?” Bruce said as he jostled Jason in his arm.

  
  


Jason looked between Bruce and Fiona. He squirmed in Bruce's arms until Bruce put him down on the floor.

  
  


“I'm a big boy now. I can sleep in the big bed,” Jason said and he started to toddle away.

  
  


Fiona raised an eyebrow. Bruce smirked.

  
  
  


Bruce always knew Jason was smart. His first time around, he had been an honour student and loved school. He read every book in the library at least once. Bruce is pretty sure that Jason used to break in and borrow books during his Red Hood years. Since his rebirth, his boy didn’t want to be read to, he wanted to read himself. Bruce watched from the doorway as Jason read to Damian. He didn’t stumble over words, he just knew them. He wanted to read his whole Golden Books library before bed each night. Bruce had to limit him to two.

  
  


“Goodnight Ahki,” Damian said as he got out of Jason's new big boy bed. He gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head and then ruffled his hair.

  
  


“Night, Dami,” Jason responded as he tucked himself deeper under the blankets.

  
  


Bruce stepped into the room and gave Jason a kiss and wished him goodnight.

  
  


“Now you're gonna stay in this bed all night, right?” Bruce asked.

  
  


“Yeah,” Jason said as he chewed on his lower lip.

  
  


Bruce sensed his unease. He lowered the guardrail down so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “What is it, bud? What's wrong?”

  
  


Jason looked toward the nightlight that was plugged into the wall beside the bed. “Daddy, I'm a big boy now. I don't need Superman anymore.”

  
  


Bruce looked back at the nightlight. His brow furrowed and he found himself swallowing hard. “Are you sure, Jaylad? Just because you got a big boy bed, doesn't mean you don't need Superman.”

  
  


Jason continued to chew on his lower lip. Bruce noticed he did this when he was unsure of something.

  
  


“No, Daddy. I don't need Superman.”

  
  


Bruce sighed and stood up. He walked over to the outlet and unplugged the Superman nightlight. The room seemed so much darker. Dick had bought the nightlight for Jason's first Christmas. It had illuminated the room for almost three years. When the light went out Bruce felt a chill.

  
  


“Are you sure, chum? I can-.”

  
  


“It's okay, Daddy. I'm a big boy now,” Jason managed before letting out a rather large yawn.

  
  


“I know you are,” Bruce smiled and placed a gentle hand on the top of his head, “If you want, I can leave the door open.”

  
  


Jason bit his bottom lip again. He looked at the door and then back to Bruce. “Can you leave the hall light on?”

  
  


Bruce nodded and leant back down to give Jason another kiss goodnight. “Sleep well, son.”

  
  


“Night Daddy.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Bruce heard a soft snuffle come from the room across the hall. He was sure of it. Quick and faint, but definitely a snuffle. He couldn't not check on him. Bruce got out of bed and padded to Jason’s room. He stood just outside the door and listened. Jason insisted he was a big boy and would sleep in his bed. He had also insisted he didn’t need a nightlight. Bruce offered to leave the bedroom door open and Jason asked for the lamp in the hall to be left on. It seemed a fair compromise. Bruce could just make out the Jason shaped lump under the covers. A tuft of dark hair sticking out in every direction. Bruce smiled to himself. This was his second chance. To do right by this little boy. His boy. His life.

  
  
  
  


\--

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The festive holiday lights had turned on automatically at dusk. For two weeks Jason sat in front of the tree and just watched the lights dance. He could have cared less about the few presents underneath.

  
  


His first Christmas, he was too small to appreciate the effort. The last holiday all Jason cared about was the lights. Bruce had hoped that this holiday Jason would enjoy the wonderment of the season. Jason was content with just watching the lights on the tree till Christmas day.

  
  


Jason didn't understand that it was a special day until Bruce brought him down for breakfast. His eyes lit up when he saw that the once near empty floor under the tree was now overfilled with many wrapped boxes. He had started to cry when Bruce said they had to have breakfast first. His mood only improved when the dining room was filled with all his brothers and sisters.

  
  


“Merry Christmas, Littlewing,” Dick beamed.

  
  


“Dickie bird! You're home,” Jason replied excitedly.

  
  


“I'll be home for Christmas. You can plan on me,” Dick sang out the Bing Crosby standard.

  
  


“Please Richard, It is much too early for that,” Damian said sourly.

  
  


“Dami, tis the season. I am just so excited that Santa came last night. I think that out there is the most impressive haul we've ever had.”

  
  


“Tt. Most of its Jason's.”

  
  


“It is?” Jason asked excitedly. He squirmed in Bruce's grip indicating he wanted to be let down. “Daddy, I got presents. I wanna open 'em.”

  
  


Bruce placed Jason on his booster seat and strapped him in. “Gotta have breakfast first. Then we can open presents.”

  
  


“It's tradition,” Steph added.

  
  


“What's ta-tadit-shun?” Jason asked.

  
  


“Traditions are fun,” Dick said.

  
  


Damian edified Dick's statement, “Traditions are something that we do together every year. For instance, we all enjoy breakfast prior to opening gifts.”

  
  


“Oh. Where's da food den?” Jason said, picking up his fork.

  
  


“Happy Christmas all,” Alfred stated as he entered with a cart of food.

  
  


“Granpa. Did ya see? Did ya see? Santa came!” Jason enthused.

  
  


Alfred smiled at the boy and responded, “Yes Master Jason, I saw quite a few presents under the tree. Everyone must have been extra good this year.”

  
  


Jason whispered not so quietly, “I not very good this year. Maybe Santa made a miskake.”

  
  


Bruce looked at the smiles and shaking shoulders on his children. Jason was so young and precocious that he often found himself in the corner as a punishment. Fiona was good at keeping up with him, but his memories of hidden passages and grown up words made him unpredictable.

  
  


“Santa makes no mistakes,” Alfred whispered back with a wink of the eye.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Alfred stood in front of the pile of pleasingly wrapped presents and contemplated which gifts to grab. Jason designated the elder gentleman to be the official gift sorter. Jason sat on the floor between Bruce's legs. He was soon surrounded by a wall of gifts. Bruce was surprised he was able to wait for all the presents to be sorted before tearing into them.

  
  


This was the first holiday Jason could appreciate all the effort that went into it. He was in wonder at the new toys and clothing. Damian had drawn and framed a wonderful family portrait for Alfred that Jason couldn't stop staring at.

  
  


“Do you like this portrait, Ahki?”

  
  


“You did this?” Jason said with a hint of awe.

  
  


“I did.”

  
  


Jason stood up and toddled over to Damian. He crawled into Damian's lap and hugged him. He then got up and patted Damian on the head. “You a good boy.”

  
  


Bruce let out a soft chuckle. Sometimes Jason surprised him. He scooped Jason up off the floor and kissed his forehead.

  
  


“You're a good boy too,” Bruce reminded Jason.

  
  


“I am now,” Jason smiled.

  
  
  



	5. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jason's fifth birthday approaches, The Joker returns to Gotham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story. But not the universe. I have a few one shots I would like to do centering around Jason's Second Firsts. 
> 
> Once again, thank you to all the readers who kept coming back for each chapter. It means a lot. For all that left a kudos or a comment, thank you.

  
  


A month before Jason's fifth birthday the Joker and Harley Quinn returned to Gotham City. The Justice League had been tracking them the moment they stepped foot on Russian soil. Somehow they fell off the radar about a month before they showed up again on surveillance cameras monitored by Oracle in Gotham City harbour. The ship they were seen disembarking from had been registered in the Balkans, which is what sent up a warning flag in Oracle's system. She had sent out her warning to the Bats as soon as she could, but the footage was an hour old and The Joker and Harley Quinn had already disappeared into the night.

  
  


The Joker had not been prepared for the culture shock he faced when he arrived in Russia. He wasn't feared like he was in the US. The people didn't care for his shtick. No one would work for him. They all thought he was, well, a clown. If he wanted to cause mayhem he was on his own.

  
  


The Joker tried desperately to get out of Russia once he realized that he wasn't going to be the feared gangster that he was in Gotham. However his attempts to leave kept getting thwarted.

  
  


Somehow he managed to get back. This set everyone on high alert. Once he managed to get back on US soil, he completely disappeared. No one knew his plans, his hideouts or what new tricks he learned abroad. This made him dangerous. A severe threat level had all the Bats on deck and some support from the Justice league.

  
  


One thing Bruce knew about the Joker's time in Russia, he was on a leash. He couldn't get a crew of his own so he had to work for a mob boss if he wanted to cause mischief. Even then, the Clown was never fully let loose. Bruce feared what chaos he would sow now that he was unleashed.

  
  


Jason has always had a thing for Wonder Woman. He was pretty sure that she was his first teenage wet dream. Puberty had been an interesting time for Jason. Half the masks and supers had worn skin tight outfits that left little to the imagination. Bruce often had to remind Jason not to stare.

  
  


The stare of absolute awe was a whole lot less creepy when it was a toddler. Diana relished and allowed Jason to use his charming ways to thrill her. When she held him, his hand automatically landed on her breast plate. It was innocent, but everyone who saw snickered.

  
  


Diana picked Jason's hand up and kissed his palm. She rubbed tiny circles in his palm and he laid his head on her shoulder. With a gentle sway, Diana rocked Jason to sleep.

  
  


It was Bruce's turn to stare at her in awe. "You're going to have to teach me that trick."

  
  


“ It's been two weeks, Bruce. He can't stay here forever. Barry and Clark have searched Gotham a dozen times over. He needs to go home.”

  
  


“ Not till I find the Joker, Diana,” Bruce said softly. “I've already lost him twice. I will not do it again.”

  
  


“ He's never alone, Bruce. Joker would not be able to get past the security of the manor. Clark and Barry are on standby. Bruce. Bruce? It's time to take him home.”

  
  


Bruce sighed and shut his eyes. “I know.”

  
  


_ Two weeks later _

  
  


The summer sun beat down on the family as they set up on the beach. Bruce had decided instead of waiting at the manor for the Joker to make his next move, he was going to take the family on a proper vacation. Leaving Gotham for a few weeks was the perfect distraction.

  
  


Jason knew that something was wrong when Bruce stole him away to the Justice League headquarters for two weeks. He was so bored. There were no other kids and the library was sorely lacking in children's literature. Barry brought his daughter Nora one day. They did get along okay, but he wasn't used to girly girls. Auntie Diana didn't count.

  
  


The house on the beach was smaller than the manor but still large enough that everyone had their own room. Except him. He slept on the pull out couch in Bruce's room. Which was okay by him. His daddy let him stay up late with him while they watched classic movies in bed.

  
  


Every day they went out to the beach that was only steps away from their residence. Jason hated that Fiona slathered him in sunblock what felt like every ten minutes. Tim had missed a spot on his back on the first day and it resulted in a streak of a sunburn that ran down the middle of spine. So Fiona made sure that all the kids were properly protected from the sun.

  
  


Jason loved to play in the water with his brothers and sisters. Dick loved to toss him in the air and would let him ride his shoulders. Jason would help Tim build a new sand castle every day. He would help Steph bury Cass in the sand. After dinner, he and Damian would take Titus on a walk up and down the length of the beach.

  
  


A few times Bruce took the family into the sleepy little New England town where they stayed. It was a quiet place where the family could be themselves. There were no paparazzi and the townspeople gave the family their privacy.

  
  


They were walking down the main street toward home after a meal at one of the many seafood themed restaurants. Dick had filmed Jason's first ever oyster. He hated it and almost vomited. Dick also filmed Jason's first taste of lobster. He loved it and wanted a whole one for himself.

  
  


“ Daddy, I gotta pee,” Jason said, as he crossed his legs and squirmed.

  
  


“ Why didn't you go before we left the restaurant,” Bruce tightened his grip on Jason's hand and looked around at their surroundings. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the choices for public accommodation. There wasn't much ahead of them but private residences. Behind them are a few shops and inns.

  
  


“ I didn't hafta go then,” Jason whined.

  
  


Fiona took Jason's other hand and told Bruce, “I can take him to that little B&B across the street. They should have a bathroom and the decency to let a little boy use it.”

  
  


Bruce relinquished Jason's hand and watched as they crossed the street and went into the large Queen Anne style Victorian bed and breakfast. The other kids and Alfred continued walking back to their beach house.

  
  


Bruce stepped into the small art gallery they had stopped near. The big bold pieces weren't really his style but he didn't want to stand awkwardly in front while he waited for Jason and Fiona to return.

  
  


After several agonizingly long minutes Bruce finally left the gallery and looked out into the street. When he didn't see Jason and Fiona, he crossed the street and climbed the stairs to the B&B. He opened the heavy door to a sort of lobby where a woman stood at the ready behind the desk.

  
  


“ Welcome to The Sunflower Inn, do you have a reservation?” she asked cheerily.

  
  


Bruce looked around to see if he could spot where Jason and Fiona may have been. “No, sorry. But can you tell me where the woman and little boy went to the restroom?”

  
  


The woman looked confused as she tilted her head. “I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about.”

  
  


Bruce stiffened, “No. They came in here not ten minutes ago. I've been waiting for them.”

  
  


“ I'm sorry sir. I haven't seen anyone come in all day. I'm honestly really bored.”

  
  


“ Where's your bathroom?” Bruce asked as he frantically started looking around the small lobby.

  
  


She pointed to the left and Bruce took off in that direction. He opened several closed door and found two bathrooms but both were empty. When he completed a circuit around the first floor of the inn, Bruce felt his panic rising. He quickly got on the phone to call Fiona's cell. It went immediately to voice mail. He dialed again. Same thing. He went into the tracking app that Tim created that allowed Bruce to track any of the family. Jason's shoes and his baseball cap each had trackers. Neither were pinging.

  
  


“ No. No. No. No. Jason! Jason!” Bruce called out.

  
  


“ Sir? Are you alright?”

  
  


Bruce began to search through the B&B in a panic. He dialed Fiona's cell again. Still straight to voicemail. He dialed the first number in his phone book.

  
  


“ Master Bruce?” Alfred answered.

  
  


“ Please tell me they're with you?” Bruce spat out.

  
  


“ What's going on?” Bruce heard Dick ask through the phone.

  
  


“ No, sir, I'm afraid they are not,”Alfred answered solemnly. “Sir?”

  
  


“ I can't find him Alfred. I can't find them,” Bruce griped the phone tight. He could feel bile rising in his throat. His son was missing. His son was missing. His son was missing.

  
  
  
  


By the time Alfred and the kids returned to the town center; the innkeeper had called the sheriff, who arrived when they did. Bruce was sitting in the innkeepers office in an old rickety rocking chair. He was hunched over and held his head in his hands.

  
  


Bruce had already reviewed the security tape. The innkeeper took a call in her office and a man in a suit came to stand behind the counter. Fiona and Jason arrived only a few seconds later. The man in the suit pointed in the direction of the bathrooms and Jason and Fiona stepped out of frame. However a well placed mirror showed that as soon as Fiona opened the bathroom door she was overtaken by another man that had hid in the bathroom. They dragged Jason and Fiona out the backdoor of the inn. The whole thing happened in the span of forty-five seconds. Bruce had still been outside on the sidewalk when his son was kidnapped.

  
  


“ Hey B, I put in a call to Clark and Diana,” Dick started.

  
  


“ They're off planet,” Bruce knew this.

  
  


“ Yes, but Barry is on his way,” Dick continued.

  
  


Damian walked up to his father and put his arms around him. “We will find him, father.”

  
  


Bruce returned the hug. Damian had grown so much. He was almost an adult now. He hit a growth spurt the previous summer and hadn't stopped yet. Bruce expected that Damian would be at least as tall as he was one day. His son.

  
  


“ Hey guys, sorry I'm late. I had a quick look around town and didn't find anything. Anyone know which way they went?” Barry peeked into the tiny office full of Waynes.

  
  


“ The town doesn't have a lot of surveillance cameras,” Tim answered, “We're not even sure how they left or what they left in."

  
  


"Gotta admit guys, I'm surprised you didn't have a tracker on him," Barry said.

  
  


"He had two. Whoever has them is probably using a signal jammer."

  
  


“ I left a message for -,” Barry paused and looked around before continuing, “- the others. I'm sure as soon as they receive it, they will return.”

  
  


“ Hn,” was all Bruce could manage. His son was missing.

  
  


The sheriff came to stand behind Barry. He held his hat in his hand in front of him. “I'm sorry to interrupt you folks, but I have some news.”

  
  


–

  
  


Bruce exhaled deeply. He had stood in front of the metal doors for a moment as he tried to muster the courage to enter. His fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes and shook the dark thoughts that replayed over and again in his brain.

  
  


Cass stood beside him and forced him to relax his fist when she offered him her hand to hold. He looked down at her petite frame and gave her a quick but genuine smile.

  
  


“ Together,” she said, pushing the door open to reveal the cold sterile morgue.

  
  


The medical examiner stood at the ready next to the body on the slab. Cass automatically tightened her grip on Bruce's hand when the ME pulled the sheet down and revealed the lifeless corpse of Jason's nanny. The sheriff said they found her body on the bridge heading out of town. There were no immediate signs of how she died. No obvious injury. Fiona looked peaceful, like she had been sleeping.

  
  


“ We're running tox screens to determine the cause of death. We did find a puncture wound that is indicative of an injection. It may be awhile before we know for sure. I'm sorry for your loss.”

  
  


“ Thank you,” Cass answered for her shell shocked father.

  
  


The medical examiner nodded and excused himself. Bruce let out a shuddering breath. He felt like he had cotton in his ears. Everything was muffled and distant. His vision was fuzzy and his skin crawled.

  
  


“ Jason is out there all alone,” Bruce whispered. His son was missing. If the Joker had him, like he believed, then Jason must have been terrified. He was scared of clowns. He dreamed of them often. Every time, Bruce would crawl into bed with him to reassure him he was safe.

  
  


Bruce always felt that Jason was his biggest failure as both Batman and as a father. When Jason was reborn, Bruce relished the possibility of a second chance to be who he should have been to Jason. It scared him that he could mess Jason up further. But he had to try. He had to be the better than before. By doing better for Jason, he also did better for all his kids, including the honorary ones. He worked hard to not be as 'emotionally constipated' as he was five years earlier.

  
  


If the Joker killed Jason again…Fiona was dead. His son was missing. His son was missing.

  
  
  
  


“ Tim?” Bruce summoned.

  
  


“ Yeah?” Tim looked up from his computer.

  
  


“ Can you get a message to Nexus on the dark web?”

  
  


Tim nodded and he set to work.

  
  


Alfred shook his head and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. “Master Timothy, would you please join your siblings in the kitchen?”

  
  


“ But B asked me -,” Tim paused at the look Alfred gave him. “Yeah, sure.”

  
  


Once Tim left the living room Alfred turned his attention to Bruce.

  
  


“ I know you don't approve of Nexus.”

  
  


“ Sir.”

  
  


“ But he has been helpful to us in the past.”

  
  


“ Sir.”

  
  


“ He has an uncanny ability in tracking Rogues.”

  
  


“ Sir!”

  
  


“ Alfred, I have to try.”

  
  


“ Nexus will not be able to help you.”

  
  


“ If he requires access to the cave or -.”

  
  


“ Nexus cannot help.”

  
  


“ Alfred, I know if I can talk to him-.”

  
  


“ Master Bruce, they cannot help you anymore.”

  
  


“ Alfred? You know who Nexus is?”

  
  


“ Yes.”

  
  


“ Alfred? Please tell me.”

  
  


“ I'm sorry sir.”

  
  


“ Alfred, that is my son out there,” Bruce yelled.

  
  


“ She cannot help you anymore sir.”

  
  


“ She?”

  
  


“ Miss Fiona, sir,” Alfred said in a whisper.

  
  


“ What?” Bruce staggered back. He shook his head as he struggled with this information. “Nexus killed Crane and Bane. You- you're telling me that was Fiona? How do you know that it was her?”

  
  


“ She confessed after Tim found the videos. She did it to protect Jason. She felt it was a necessary evil.”

  
  


“ A necessary – a necessary evil?” Bruce said incredulously.

  
  


“ They had plans to kidnap Jason. She did what was required of her. She protected him.”

  
  


“ She killed them. She could have left them like she did with Dent and Mad Hatter,” Bruce's voice raised in volume though he was mindful of his other children in the next room.

  
  


“ She had not yet known of your 'no kill' policy. She admits she was overzealous but I assured her she did the right thing.”

  
  


“ You condone what she did?” Bruce said angrily.

  
  


“ Master Bruce, that little boy calls me 'grandfather'. I would kill every Rogue without a moment's hesitation to protect that child. All your children.  _ My _ grandchildren,” Alfred leaned in and stressed his point.

  
  


“ Alfred...”

  
  


“ Do not think for a moment I wouldn't do the same for you either. Or that haven't already.”

  
  


Bruce closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “I know.”

  
  


“ Miss Fiona was a fine woman. Everything she did, she did in service to Master Jason. I will not allow you to sully her memory because you do not approve of her methods.”

  
  


Bruce sat down in a nearby armchair. “My son is missing. I am desperate. I would gladly kill a million Rogues to get him back.”

  
  


Alfred placed a gentle hand on Bruce's shoulder, “I know.”

  
  
  
  


–

  
  
  


Jason's cries reverberated throughout the abandoned warehouse. They had driven for what felt like hours to Jason. They didn't arrive at the warehouse until well after the sun went down. They did something to Fiona, Jason knew. She fell asleep and they pushed her out of the car. He had been crying ever since. He was so scared. He just wanted his Daddy.

  
  


“ Can't you shut that thing up?” The Joker begged Harley.

  
  


“ He's just a baby, whatta want?”

  
  


“ I'm- I'm not a baby,” Jason said through hiccuping cries. “I want my daddy!" Jason wailed.

  
  


“ I want your daddy too. If only to shut you up."

  
  


Jason stuck out his tongue.

  
  


“ I'm waiting for the Batman. Once I kill the bat you can go back to wherever you came from."

  
  


Jason's cries intensified. Harley struggled to keep him in her grip.

  
  


"Nice, J. What are we doing back in Gotham anyways? We coulda just done this all on that really nice beach. I wonder what sand does when it's soaked with blood. Do ya think it clumps like kitty litter?"

  
  


"The Bat live in Gotham. The Bat should die in Gotham."

  
  


"You want to kill my daddy!"

  
  


"Shut it!" Joker swung the tyre iron in his hand. He smashed the concrete pillar and a large chunk broke off.

  
  


Jason screamed in fear and did his best to get out of Harley's grip. Harley turned the little boy in her arms so that he faced her. She embraced him in a firm hug and rocked him side to side in the chair. Jason clung to her in hopes that she could keep him safe. Safe from the monster he feared most.

  
  


“ Geez, yer scarin' him. Can ya maybe, try, to be a human bein' for once?” Harley barked.

  
  


“ I'm not gonna hurt ya kid. It wouldn't be any fun. Not without Daddy watchin' anyway,” Joker tried to reassure the wailing child though he smiled wickedly.

  
  


“ I don't wanna to die again,” Jason cried.

  
  


Joker paused and cocked his head to the side. “What are you talkin' 'bout? What's he talkin' 'bout?”

  
  


Harley shrugged her shoulders.

  
  


“ Who kills a baby? What are you? Like two?” Harley said.

  
  


“ I'm five. It-it's my-my birthday.”

  
  


“ Whatever. Happy birthday,” Harley snarked.

  
  


Jason spared a glance at the Joker and quickly burrowed his face back into Harley's chest. “He killed me,” he whined, his cries muffled by Harley's chest.

  
  


Joker shot Harley a look of disbelief then shrugged, “It's possible. I've killed a lot of people,” he paused, “Wait, you're four? How could I have killed you? I've been out of -.”

  
  


“ In “thiopa,” Jason groused.

  
  


“ In what?” the Joker's face shifted from annoyance to total mischief in a matter of seconds as he pieced together a fundamental truth. “Oh this is too good,” Joker yelled into the open warehouse. “You're tellin' me, that you're the same little birdie I dropped in Ethiopia?” He spun around with a flourish, “Oh the Bat must be going out of his mind right now. Ha ha!”

  
  


Jason's cries intensified.

  
  


“ Stop scaring him, geez,” Harley complained as she continued to wrangle the squirming child.

  
  


“ Wait!” the Joker suddenly yelled and it was so unexpected that even Jason paused to more of a hiccup. “Ethiopia was like ten years ago. You're five. Are you Benjamin Button?”

  
  


Jason shook his head and looked Joker straight in the eye. “I'm Jason, bitch.”

  
  


Harley's eyebrows rose and she started to laugh.

  
  


“ Shut it!” Joker screeched.

  
  


Harley stifled her laugh and turned to hide that she was still smiling. Joker raised the tyre iron causing Harley to shift in the chair so that she would take the blow instead of Jason. Joker paused mid-air.

  
  


“ You're an asshole,” She said as she stood up and walked over to a dirty old mattress sitting on the floor in the corner. She placed Jason down and smoothed down his unruly hair. “It's okay sweetie. You're not gonna die again. I'm gonna talk to Mista J.”

  
  


Harley stood up and stalked back over to Joker. She smacked him in the shoulder, “What's wrong with you? He's a little kid.”

  
  


“ The Bat's kid. That kid,” Joker stressed, “is going to bring the Bat to us.”

  
  


“ His father. You're gonna kill his father. Do you know how traumatic that's gonna be?”

  
  


“ I don't think you understand what is a stake here. The Bat is gonna suffer. In fact I guarantee you that it's suffering right now, just because we have the brat. I will then get to watch him suffer even more when I kill his birdie. Again. Oh this is gonna be grand,” Joker said as he swung the tyre iron like a baseball bat.

  
  


“ You're not gonna touch the kid,” Harley growled.

  
  


The Joker hung his head and sighed. “You used to be fun. What happened?”

  
  


Harley pulled her 9mm pistol from the holster strapped to her hip. “Talkin' 'bout killin' a kid isn't funny.”

  
  


"What's the matter sweetheart? Can't you take a joke?"

  
  


Harley seethed. "It's not funny anymore!" She raised her pistol and pulled the trigger.

  
  


The force of the 9mm round to the center of his skull sent his head whipping back while his body went boneless. The shot was still echoing in the expansive space after Joker's body hit the floor.

  
  


"Puddin'?" Her voice echoed in the abandoned warehouse.

  
  


"She killed the clown." Henchman number one said.

  
  


"Holy shit!" Yelled henchman number two.

  
  


"He's dead." Henchman number three spoke quietly.

  
  


“ I can't believe it. The clown's dead,” Henchman number four shook his head.

  
  


"Now what do we do?" Henchman number one asked.

  
  


Harley raised her hands in surrender as several of the henchmen trained their weapons on her.

  
  


"Now fellas. I'm sure we can come to some kinda understandin' here," she tried to bargain.

  
  


It is unknown who fired first. Harley or the henchmen? But she managed to take a few of them out before she finally succumbed to the thirty-three bullet holes that pierced her body.

  
  


The remaining men scattered soon after. They left Jason alone, crying on the dirty torn mattress.

  
  


The signal jammer that had been blocking the tracker in Jason's shoe went with the retreating goons. Within minutes of the tracker being back online the Flash showed up at the warehouse carrying Bruce.

  
  


Barry dropped Bruce on the floor only a few feet from Jason.

  
  


"Whoo. Man, you are heavy," Barry stated between panting breaths.

  
  


"Daddy!" Jason yelled. He stretched out his arms and Bruce quickly closed the distance between them.

  
  


"Jason!" Bruce called out,  "Hey buddy. You're okay. I've got you," Bruce said as he picked Jason up from the dirty mattress. Jason clung to him so tight that he couldn't pry him away far enough to get a better look at him.

  
  


Jason cried heavily into Bruce's neck. "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy," he whimpered through sobs. Bruce held his son tight. Bruce kept reassuring him that he was there and he had him.

  
  


Barry had taken interest in the bodies of the Joker and Harley Quinn.

  
  


"They dead?" Bruce asked, though he knew the answer.

  
  


"Yup. Just checking though."

  
  


“ Daddy?” Jason had cried himself out and was just clinging to Bruce.

  
  


“ Yeah, chum?”

  
  


“ I want to go home.”

  
  


“ Yeah, kiddo, let's go home.”

  
  


Bruce carried Jason toward the exit. They passed under a clock sitting over the doorway. The time read  **4:13am** .

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
